


The Man of Tomorrow

by DCMarvelousWordsmith



Series: DC Fanfiction Universe (DCFU) [1]
Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU (Comics), Smallville, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: A bit sappy, Alien Technology, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, POV Alternating, Reimagining of the DCEU, Science Fiction, Smut, Some angst, actual person!Superman, character driven, lots of fluff, lots of science-y stuff, self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-04-07 19:50:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 83,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14088399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DCMarvelousWordsmith/pseuds/DCMarvelousWordsmith
Summary: Clark Kent finally comes into his own as a superhero and shares his love with the girl of his dreams. A powerful being sets General Zod and other prisoners free from the Phantom Zone, and Clark is truly tested for the first time in front of the whole world - as Superman.This is an original-ish story with lots of elements pulled from movies, shows, comics, prompts, and my wild imagination.





	1. Home

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I am new to the archive and wanted to share part of a story I've been working on for a while. It's the start of a whole series of DC stories I want to do and definitely the most ambitious thing I've ever done. This is gonna be a long one and starts off slow so keep that in mind. This is VERY Clark/Lana heavy. Hopefully anyone reading this will stick it out with me for a bit. I'll try to update as quickly as possible. (Side note - the Kryptonian language is an important story element but will be written in italicized English for the most part unless the specific pronunciation is relevant and demands otherwise) Anyways, enjoy! :)

Silence filled the white void, accompanied only by a large construction made of metal and crystal. Sound behaved differently here, as if this plane gagged the waves themselves. A being, as it liked to call itself, floated toward the entrance of the massive structure. It believed it was above the physicality of gender, as well as walking. It saw that the entranceway was unobstructed, and so went straight through to follow the long corridors until it found that for which it had come. A small cell encased in a circular wall of woven crystal held a man with wavy black hair and a well-kept beard. He wore a black uniform made from some sort of interlaced material, one full piece from the neck all the way down to his feet. The man was facing the being’s right side and looked up upon noticing the light emanating from it. His eyes were unfocused. The being spoke.

< _Dru-Zod, commander of the forces of Krypton_. >

< _Until my dying breath carries me into Rao’s light_ ,> Zod answered. He squinted but his eyes remained unfocused, belying his composure and hinting at the instability brought upon by his isolation. His voice came out muffled as it always did in this plane, but for some reason the being’s voice was clear.

< _Your story is not yet finished_. > The being watched as Zod’s face took on a pensive look. It produced a small device from its hand and placed it onto the crystal casing of the cell. The entire perimeter melted and disappeared, along with the device. Zod stood up.

< _Bring them_ ,> the being commanded. < _All of you have been chosen_. >

Zod walked into the corridor and got his first good look at the being. It would have been a bit taller than him even if it hadn’t decided to hover a few inches off the ground. It had the visage of a man, but many parts of its body were visibly scarred and damaged. Those that weren’t were covered in different metals, some of which Zod recognized and some he did not. Though sure of it at first, he was now reconsidering if this being was Rao made flesh. It spoke Kryptonian flawlessly, yet it did not look like anyone or anything he’d ever seen on his planet. Regardless, he was not foolish enough to decline the opportunity for escape. His eyes flickered to its forehead, where the being’s light was coming from. Upon it sat three glowing orbs.

 _< I do not serve you. Only Krypton,> _said Zod.

_< Then do what you have been made to do.>_

Memories flashed in Zod’s mind. Krypton had been a mess of war, betrayal and fear when he was imprisoned. He could remember the treachery of a man he had once called friend, the patriarch of the House of El. He remembered a Council of fools and an unstable core. Zod was groomed from young to be a soldier. The only things he knew were war, conflict, and devotion to his home. Desperation drove him to seek any means necessary to save Krypton, but even though Zod was imprisoned in this realm outside of time while Krypton still stood, he knew in his soul that when he escaped, Krypton would not be waiting for him.

< _Krypton is gone._ >

< _It does not have to be,_ > said his emancipator. < _It could be made anew, upon another world._ >

Zod eyed the being warily, but could not get a read on it. < _What have you to gain from this?_ >

The being did not answer immediately. He looked upon the bearded man with a mildly curious expression, as if in the middle of deciding whether or not to act on a whim.

< _Knowledge,_ > it said, not elaborating further.

Zod stared. He did not trust this being. Unfortunately, it was the only thing with the means to escape the unholy prison in which Zod found himself. He relented, because even more than wanting to escape, he wanted to see his home flourish once more. < _Krypton will live again._ >

The being produced another device, this one considerably bigger than the last. It handed it to Zod smoothly. < _This prison is made from a war vessel, as you know. I presume you still possess the ability to pilot one. > _

< _I do._ > Zod answered flatly. He was sent to this dimension, along with six others, in his own warship. The Council did not expect any of them to escape, and had decided to add insult to injury. Now that Zod was free, he could easily free the others as well.

 _< Then the Phantom Zone will no longer hold you. Activate this device when you and the others are ready._> The being began to fly back the way it came before Zod called back to it.

< _What is this world we are to conquer?_ >

The being uttered one last sentence before disappearing. < _Those who inhabit it have called it Earth._ >

 

************************

The night was darker than it usually was at this time of the evening. March had just begun and the days were getting longer still, but hope for spring seemed to fade into memories of early winter. The sky appeared to agree, overcast with dark clouds blocking the stars from view. Kansas was known for more rain than usual in late spring, but it seemed the troposphere decided to be a little early. The only solace for the man driving his pick-up down an old dirt road was the heat that came with the mild breeze into his open window. The familiar smell of earth and livestock wafted even more strongly as he slowed down and turned left past a sign that read: KENT FARM.

He stopped and cut his headlights off when he got close to the small yellow house at the end of the path. The light was on in the kitchen. Listening to the sounds that came from the house, he could tell someone was watching the news, or at least listening to it on the radio. The man looked at his watch, an old, priceless thing with a worn leather strap and a white face that read 6:02. He suppressed a chuckle, shaking his head. No matter what, the news was always on at six.

After grabbing a small bag from the passenger seat, he stepped out of the truck and walked to the front door. He slipped the keys in his twill jacket, the beige of which was a stark contrast to the red and black plaid flannel shirt he wore over blue jeans. He rang the doorbell.

The sound of short footsteps came through the closed door. When it opened, a woman in her sixties stood in the doorway across from him, wide eyes accompanying an even wider smile as she realized who it was.

“Clark!” she exclaimed, immediately reaching up to give the man a hug.

“Hey, Ma,” the man answered, smiling wide enough to match his mother. She pulled him inside. “Is that apple pie?”

“You haven’t even been here ten seconds,” the woman laughed. She was wearing a stained white apron over a gray cardigan. Her graying brown hair was pulled back in a loose bun. “But yes, it sure is. It’ll be ready soon so wash up and you can have some.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Clark, complying enthusiastically. He might be a bit biased, but his mom makes the best apple pie. Hell, he’d just had some in Stockholm a week before but he’d come to the same conclusion then, too – nobody makes apple pie like Martha Kent.

“You should’ve told me you were coming. I would’ve cleaned up beforehand,” Martha scolded her son with kind eyes. Clark looked around and immediately saw the mess; there was one dirty glass in the sink.

“Yeah, the place is a real pig sty, Mom,” Clark replied with a smirk. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, color me surprised. Where’d you go this time?”

“Everywhere,” he answered. “It’s why I was gone so long. I didn’t plan to country-hop at first, but I kinda just got swept up in it, you know?”

“Sounds like you had a good time.” The small white timer on the counter dinged, and Martha took the pie out of the oven. “Take this for a second?”

The metal pan was scalding hot, but Clark took it easily with bare hands. Martha set her oven mitts together on the table, and Clark set the pan on top of them. Normally one lets a pie cool for about an hour after removing it from the oven, but the two of them had gotten used to speeding things along. Clark bent over the table and blew on the dish softly. A gust of cold air engulfed the pie, and he sustained the breeze just long enough for the dessert to set. Too long and it would freeze. He got a knife and some dishes and cut them both a piece. “I wouldn’t really say I enjoyed it, but…I have to say it was exactly what I needed.”

“How so?” She was in full mom mode now. Clark thought for a moment, wondering how best to begin. He remembered the sightseeing, the days spent in libraries speed-reading to learn new languages, the hours of YouTube videos watched to acquire new skills, the hitchhiking, the people suffering from physical and mental disease, the tastes of dozens of different cultures, and every minute he spent talking with someone new. How could he possibly explain how both connected and disconnected he felt with every person he ever came across?

“Dad always said I would change the world. The last time he said it, I said ‘what if I don’t want to change the world?’” He scooped a bit of pie into his mouth and chewed with a serious face. “He said that one day it wouldn’t matter, because I wouldn’t be able to stop myself. I didn’t understand what he meant until now.”

“Your father had a knack for getting to know people better than they know themselves,” Martha said, digging into her own slice of pie. She smiled sadly before putting on a much more jovial expression. “Now come on, spit it out! Tell me what happened on your trip around the world. What’d you learn? What did you see?”

He didn’t want to put a damper on her mood, but he needed his mother’s guidance. “I…the world’s hurting, Mom. It reminds me of when I was eight and you had a bad case of the flu. You kept trying to say you were fine and wouldn’t let Dad and me take care of you.”

Martha gave an embarrassed chuckle and ate more pie. Her son continued with a distant look in his eyes. “There’s so much wrong with it, but too many people ignore the problems or refuse to acknowledge that they even exist at all. So many places, from tiny villages to entire countries, are infected with hate and ignorance…like a disease. A lot of people just try to push through, make their own way in the middle of all the bad. They think it’s just the way it is, and they can’t do anything about it. I mean, most people know all this, but it’s something else entirely to witness it for yourself.”

Clark and Martha both sat quietly at the table, finishing their pie. Martha knew her son had more to say so she stayed quiet. Clark looked over towards the living room, where the television was still on. A news anchor was talking solemnly of a school shooting that had taken place in Lawrence. Nineteen high school students were injured and six were in critical condition. It was a miracle nobody had died. Clark went back to staring at his empty plate. Nothing like that ever happened in Smallville, but he’d heard of another, deadlier one that happened in Florida a couple weeks before.

“There’s so much good, too, though,” he said. “And so many people want to do good, make the world a better place. They…we just don’t know how. But Dad was right. It would take all night to tell you all the places I’ve been, but each new place only ever made me surer. I don’t want to sit here focused on just myself and my life.”

Martha smiled. She and her late husband Jonathan had talked about this day many times, and she couldn’t have been more proud of her son. She only wished Jonathan could be here.

“Will you be using your powers?” she asked, sensing Clark’s hesitation to continue.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “That’s the part I can’t decide. For the past few months I only used my powers sparingly and never in front of people. I’ve been trying to live like a normal person. Loads of people have made positive impacts on big and small scales without powers, so I figured I’d see if I could do the same. Starting small, of course.”

Clark smiled sheepishly. He and his mom both knew he had a natural desire to come rushing out of the gates in every situation that made him excited, even though his tendency to overthink things usually made him careful. “So what do you think?”

“I think that I’m very proud of my darling little boy,” Martha answered.

Clark chuckled. “I’m six foot three.”

“Oh, hush,” she said with a lazy wave of her hand. She looked across the table into her son’s blue eyes and sighed. “Your father and I knew this would be something you’d choose. Ever since that day we thought you disappeared. Remember that, around eighteen years ago? Gave us quite the scare.”

“Sorry, Ma.”

“I’m not mentioning it so you can apologize again, honey. It’s about where we found you. You were at the Lang farm. You’d finished helping Jonathan with the chores so you walked up the road to see if they needed any help with theirs.”

“How could I forget,” muttered Clark. “It’s the only time I saw Dad lose his temper. It was pretty scary.”

“Until you told him why you left. Then he hugged you and cried like a baby straight out of the womb, he was so proud. Nobody ever had to teach you how to be a good kid. You just were.” Clark could tell she was reliving that day in her mind. His mother’s face was full of too many emotions to count. “Now, I can’t tell you what to do with your powers. You’ll have to figure that part out on your own. All I know is that the two most important things someone needs to change the world for the better are a good heart and a good mind, and you’ve had those since you crashed here in that hunk of metal. But I will say this, too: you don’t owe this world a thing. I love that this is something that you want, but always remember that you don’t have to. Okay?”

Clark looked back at his mother with a curious expression, then slowly nodded. He hadn’t expected that response, but was happy his mother supported him either way.

“Good,” she said, picking up their plates and forks and handing them to Clark. “Now you can start by doing the dishes. And you can only have one more slice of pie while you’re here. I’m saving the rest for the Langs since they’re coming over tomorrow to finalize our sale of the farm.”

Oh, right. He’d forgotten about that. They’d talked on the phone about selling the farm and moving to Keystone City a couple months before. Clark wouldn’t be in Smallville forever and Martha was getting old trying to tend the farm herself, even if she did have help from the neighbors’ three sons.

“Is Lana coming?” he asked. Martha smirked. Her son had had a crush on Lana since they were thirteen, and even though they’d went their separate ways after high school Lana would always call to see if Clark was around whenever she made it back to Smallville.

“I don’t know, honey. I haven’t heard from her in a while. Last time I checked she was still at the university in Central City. How come you never go and visit? It’s just a little over an hour out and I’m sure she’d _love_ to see you.”

Clark shuffled across the kitchen awkwardly and started with the dishes to avoid the question. Not one to be ignored, Martha followed and leaned against the counter a foot away from him with an expectant look. He sighed.

“I don’t want to bother her. She’s off doing her own thing and she’s always dreamed of the city. I don’t want to distract her or remind of her of home. She never exactly loved Smallville.”

“Small towns ain’t for everybody, Clark, but I doubt she’d have a problem with seeing those baby blues.” Clark rolled his eyes. His mom patted him on the arm. “Give her a call. It’s still early. And it’s Friday.”

“Okay, Mom.” Clark placed the last clean dish in the rack next to the sink, dried his hands and headed to the back door. He took his phone out of his pocket and heard his mother say something under her breath across the room.

“Those two love science so much but wouldn’t notice chemistry even if it bit them in the booty.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Clark called. Martha sat back on the couch to continue watching the news, smirking but not answering. Clark shook his head. “I’m gonna head out to the storm cellar to check on my ship, okay?”

“Okay, but if you see any little green people, don’t tell them I’m home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

 

The storm cellar was surprisingly clean, or at least as clean as a small underground bunker can get. Clark was starting to wonder if all mothers were neat freaks. He had never been a slob by any definition, but he didn’t exactly mind a bit of clutter either. Not that he would ever leave anything resembling a mess here at home, of course, but if he was on his own he was a bit more lenient.

Clark sat at the bottom of the stairs and made the call. It rang a few times, and then he heard her voice. “ _Hey there. You’ve reached a female person’s voicemail. If you recognize this voice, leave a message. If you don’t, feel free to never call again. Bye!_ ”

He laughed as the phone beeped. Lana’s sass was one of his favorite things about her, and hearing her voice made him realize how much he’d missed her. It had been months since they last spoke. “Hey Lana, it’s Clark. I was just calling to see how you were doing. I know we haven’t spoken in a while so I was hoping we could catch up. Call me back when you can. Bye.”

He hit the end button and shrugged to himself, getting up. _Not the smoothest message but certainly not the worst_ , he thought. In the far corner of the room was a giant brown tarp, which he pulled to reveal a silver ovoid-shaped metal object whose sides were streamlined into soft edges. It was almost as long as he was tall yet just as wide, and not for the first time he wondered why a child so small would need something this large for travel.

It had taken him years after his parents explained the circumstances of his “adoption” to figure out how to open the thing, but now it was second nature. He placed his palm on the underside of the pod, close to the front. In the center of the top face glowed a small symbol: a pentagon with what looked like the letter “S” inside of it. The glow subsided, but the glyph stayed. Clark pressed on it with two fingers and felt it sink lower into the surrounding metal before it disappeared under the top layer. The metal surrounding the newly-made hole slid backward into itself, making the hole bigger until the entire top half of the pod was open.

There were three objects inside. One was a small, round, opaque crystal that was much softer to the touch than expected. The second was a dodecahedron the size of a softball, seemingly made of both metal and crystal and with a hole in the center of it. Clark had no idea what this was or what it was for. The last object was a long red sheet that was impossibly soft. The material was unlike anything he’d seen before or since.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out with one hand while picking up the metal and the crystal with the other, leaving the red sheet alone in the pod. Lana’s name appeared on the screen with a little envelope telling him he’d gotten a text. He opened it.

 _Hi!! Sorry I’m in class right now but I’ll call you right after, I promise. Your mom told me you went on a trip, so you better tell me all about it_ :)

Clark smiled at the message and responded immediately. _Deal. Now pay attention to your professor!_

She texted back just as quickly. _NO._

Deciding not to respond and continue being a distraction, he returned his phone to his pocket and let his hands fiddle with the other two objects. He slid his fingers over the geometric figure, scanning for buttons or switches for the thousandth time before inserting two fingers into the empty space at its center. Thinking it was an oddly pretty thing, he examined it closer, seeing that the metal of it was fused on top of the crystal in a way that made it hard to discern where one ended and the other began. His fingers skimmed the edge while he rotated it, flexing his hand so that they pressed against the sides to hold it in place. Then he felt the crystal’s edge begin to push back.

Clark yelped and dropped the object in surprise. He watched it hit the dirt with a soft thud and waited. Nothing happened, so he picked it back up and looked at the hole up close without touching it this time. The hole had tried to close around his fingers. Obviously something was supposed to fill the whole, but his fingers didn’t seem to be a plausible solution. So what the hell was supposed to go in there? The only other thing he had was –

Oh. Duh.

Clark realized he was still holding the smooth round crystal from the pod in his other hand and brought it up to measure it against the hole in the other object. He silently chastised himself for being so dense. How did that not occur to him years ago? Granted, he hadn’t looked inside his ship often, but either way it made him feel hilariously stupid. Slipping it into the hole, he watched as the two different crystals started to fuse together before the outer metal casing melted away. A few seconds later, he was left with a small octahedral crystal as clear as glass. It glowed blue.

The crystal in his hand seemed to take on a life of its own, shining and vibrating so strongly that even he had to tighten his grip to keep a hold on it. He looked around to find the cellar awash in a blue-white light as the intensity of the vibrations reached its peak. The crystal flashed, and the light became too bright to see anything at all.

For a few moments, he stood motionless with his eyes shut. The crystal seemed to be done with its show, now calm and unmoving in his outstretched hand. All seemed normal again, save for the violent gust of wind that blew into his right side. That was odd. One does not normally feel wind when inside a closed underground space. He opened his eyes.

All around him was white. Wisps of mist flew this way and that, blending with the frost that rose off the ground. Clark looked down and realized he was standing on ice. Where the hell was he?

 

The only noise in his immediate area was from the wind, so he focused on extending his auditory range. He heard signs of animal life and the telltale hum of human civilization several miles away. His lungs released a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relaxing with the realization that he’d apparently just been teleported somewhere by an alien crystal. _At least I’m still on Earth_ , Clark thought. He took his phone out while slipping the crystal into his right jacket pocket, which he regretted immediately. He’d forgotten that that pocket had a sizeable hole in it he’d neglected to fix, so the crystal went straight through his jacket and bounced on the ice next to him. Instead of coming to a stop, however, the crystal sank a bit into the ice where steam started to billow out from underneath it. The ice cracked at Clark’s feet and he immediately jumped up, willing himself to stay in the air.

Clark watched dumbfounded as the cracks grew into large fissures and the crystal disappeared beneath the ice. Seconds later, the air exploded with the deafening sound of the glacier beneath him splintering into thousands of pieces as something came shooting upward through the ice. Scores of translucent crystal columns surged toward him, forcing him to take off higher into the sky to avoid getting hit. In his mild panic, he created a sonic boom. After about two seconds, he stopped and floated, looking back down to see he was about a couple thousand feet off the ground. The columns continued to grow skyward.

“Holy crap.”

Clark watched as the crystal structures grew and weaved along each other. Eventually they stopped, and he found himself in awe of the colossal formation. The whole thing was almost half a mile wide and easily over a thousand feet tall at its highest point. Columns of crystal stood diagonally, crisscrossing one another in all directions. There was an austere beauty to it, as if it were designed solely for practicality and not at all for comfort. Clark flew around the perimeter of the structure twice, x-raying all of it. He was always grateful for this particularly useful superpower, as it helped scan for danger from a distance. He hadn’t come across anything on earth that could hurt him yet, but given that this was very clearly alien tech tied to him, he wasn’t going to take any chances.

There didn’t seem to be any threats inside, so he flew back around to find an opening. Most of the crystal columns had grown close enough together to create a solid ceiling at the top of the erection, but there were still a few spaces present toward the center. He flew through one of them straight down into a large clearing in the middle of the structure. As he saw from the outside, there wasn’t much on the inside except for a small, raised semicircular block of crystal that faced an oddly flat piece of more crystal several yards away. It looked like a wall.

The original crystal that had transported Clark was nowhere to be found. His phone still in his hand from earlier, he unlocked the screen and was relieved to find he had cell service, though barely. He immediately went to Google Maps, and turned his location on.

“Please be in the northern hemisphere at least,” he muttered. A couple seconds later, the map zoomed in and the blue dot meant to serve as his location was resting in the middle of a mass of light blue. He was in the Arctic Ocean, somewhere close to Greenland. “Swell.”

His phone vibrated in his hand as he stared at it, a notification popping up to tell him he’d received a picture message. It was Lana again, so he opened it immediately. She’d sent a selfie taken at an odd angle, with her dark orange hair falling over part of her face in messy waves. Below the picture was a message. _So bored. Somebody save me._

Clark smirked and rolled his eyes while his legs carried him forward seemingly of their own accord. He wanted to think of something clever to respond with, but his mind was too preoccupied by what had just happened to him. Curiosity won out, and he went to examine the raised platform jutted from the smooth, level ground. There were grooves and symbols all over it, almost like a computer keyboard, but he couldn’t discern any order to what he was seeing. He ran his hand slowly over the surface, touching each glyph and space. It must have been the right course of action, because eventually, the platform began to glow from within. A soft golden light illuminated the crystal. Then it spoke.

< _Greetings. I am Kelex._ >

Clark jumped at the sound, fear turning into mild confusion at the realization that he couldn’t understand what he just heard. He should’ve figured. Obviously aliens wouldn’t speak English or any other language on this planet.

“Um…hello there?” he answered anyway. Even if there’s a language barrier, always start with salutations, right?

A soft whirring sound filled the air, then Clark heard the voice again.

“Greetings. I am Kelex.”

Clark blinked. _Well, that’s lucky_ , he thought. He looked around the crystal monument once more, marveling at how advanced this technology must be. For as long as he could remember he was a curious person, always wondering about everything from the tiniest grains of sand to the farthest reaches of space. After being told that was probably exactly where he’d come from by his parents when he was twelve, the rest of the universe both fascinated and terrified him. That’s exactly how he felt now.

“You speak English.”

“Yes, as well as thousands of other languages and dialects across Krypton’s record of the known universe,” answered the disembodied voice.

“Kr-Krypton?” The only krypton Clark knew was the chemical element, but something told him that wasn’t what it was talking about. Another question slipped out before he could stop it. “Who am I talking to right now?”

“I am Kelex, the artificial intelligence assigned to this monument in memory of Krypton, the homeworld of my maker, Jor-El. I am to assist in the protection and maintenance of this fortress, and am currently directed to answer only to Kal-El.”

Artificial intelligence? Clark was astounded at how advanced Krypton must be. Humans were just now barely scratching the surface on that kind of technology, but Kelex seemed like an actual person.

“And who is…Kal-El?” Clark asked, despite being almost completely positive of the answer. He held his breath regardless, nerves finally getting to him belatedly. He was close to freaking out.

Clark did not get an answer from Kelex. Instead, the light emanating from the platform intensified and two holographic images were projected upward from the symbol in its center. The first showed what looked like a map of space, with a celestial body highlighted to stand out from the rest. He assumed this was where Krypton was supposed to be. Clark recognized the area in the constellation Virgo, and was surprised to find it so close. He looked to the other hologram.

It showed a man with white-streaked black hair wearing a full length blue bodysuit made of an odd woven material. On top of it he wore what looked like a white robe, open down the middle and embroidered on the left chest with the same symbol Clark saw on his ship back in the storm cellar. The man had a hard, stoic face belied by kind eyes. They were blue, like Clark’s.

“Kal-El, my son,” said the man in the hologram. His voice was deep yet soft, with a melodic lilt. The words were in Clark’s own first language, but wrapped in an accent he’d never heard before. He stared in awe. “You do not remember me, but I am Jor-El. I am your father. As you are viewing this now, I, along with all of Krypton, will have been dead for many of your years, leaving you the sole survivor of our world. I am sorry that I could not be there with you, Kal, but in order to spare you from the destruction of our home, your mother and I had to remain.

“You will have grown up on Earth and lived among humans, but you must remember that you are not one of them. We sent you to this planet because of the similarities between its people and ours, in both visage and culture, but as you have likely already discovered, you can do extraordinary things no other human can do. This will be both a blessing and a burden for you, yet our hope is that with time and teaching you will thrive and deliver them from the darkness that consumes so many civilizations the way Krypton never could be. I have gifted you with Kelex, my personal assistant, and Krypton’s complete archives comprising knowledge from the 28 known galaxies. Use them well, my son, and keep Krypton in your heart as you will always be in ours. Goodbye, Kal.”

Clark stared at the crystal platform with wide unfocused eyes as the hologram disappeared. His vision was blurry, and he rubbed his eyes to find them wet. For years he’d wondered where he came from, and now that he had answers he felt a kind of pain he hadn’t expected. He’d only just heard of Krypton, but knowing it had been destroyed felt worse than not knowing at all. In minutes, he’d been given a home and then had it ripped away.

But his name was Kal-El. His father’s name was Jor-El. He had an artificial intelligence under his command, and knowledge more extensive than anything Earth had to offer at his fingertips. He shook his head to clear it from the heaviness of it all. Only half an hour ago he was eating pie with his mom.

There were so many questions flying through Clark’s head that he almost couldn’t choose which one to ask next. Yet he knew if he tried to get all the information now, it would be too much for him. So he asked the one question whose answer meant the most to him.

“Kelex…how long has Krypton been gone?”

Kelex answered immediately. “In Earth’s measure of time, it has been twenty-four years, seven months and thirteen days.”

Clark exhaled in a huff. That was almost as old as he was, or at least the estimate of how old he was. His parents had no way of knowing when he was born.

“Do you know when I was born, in Earth’s time?”

“Your birth on Krypton coincides with the Earth date, at this geographical location, of February 28th, 1989.”

Clark smiled at that. So he was older than he thought he was. He made a mental note of telling his mother the news after figuring out a way to tell her everything else that had just happened to him without freaking out himself. On that note he figured that was enough to ponder over for a while.

“Thanks, Kelex. Now, is there some sort of tutorial or user manual that comes along with all this?”

“Yes. Would you like me to walk you through the basic functions and controls?”

“Uh, yeah. That would be good,” said Clark, not really knowing where to focus since the voice continued to come from all around him despite the glowing platform. On an unrelated note, he found it interesting that the A.I. could use idiomatic expressions properly. “Thank you, Kelex.”

Kelex provided a detailed yet efficient description of its own capabilities and a tour of the external controls on the platform. Clark found he could toggle through languages, give Kelex a robotic or android-like form, access formal archives of information spanning dozens of subjects, personalize the fortress’s security systems, synthesize hundreds of different materials both foreign and familiar, and even speed up or slow down any and all lessons themselves. The last part he utilized immediately after learning of it, as he was intent on maximizing his time and more than a little worried his mom would check on him to find him inexplicably missing. His phone hadn’t vibrated again so he figured he was in the clear so far, but he still felt as if he were on borrowed time. After absorbing the remaining basic lessons at 25 times the original speed, he stopped for a break.

He’d asked Kelex to synthesize more crystal, which he’d used to crudely fashion into furniture with his heat vision. He hadn’t given himself much time to think about design and materials before moving on to the next thing. As he sat down in the chair closest to him to admire how quickly he’d adapted to all this, his phone vibrated. Panicking, he retrieved it quickly only to find a low battery message blinking on the screen. He chuckled to himself.

“Chill out, Clark,” he said aloud. “No need to be so jumpy.”

Clark checked the time and dialed his mom. Back in Smallville, it wasn’t even eight o’clock.

“Clark?” she answered. “Everything alright over there?”

“Hey, Ma. Everything’s fine. Just calling to let you know I’ll be flying around for a while so you know I’m not home.”

“Alrighty, be careful. Make sure nobody sees you.”

“Okay, Ma.”

“And make sure you bundle up. I know you like to go pretty high.”

He chuckled. She knew he didn’t get cold, but knowing her she’d just assume it was a temporary thing that could change at any moment. “Okay. See you later.”

Clark hung up the phone and walked back to the crystal platform, which he now knew served as the command console. He set the commands to be voice-activated and calibrated to English for convenience, then called Kelex back.

“Hey, Kelex? The likelihood of someone stumbling across this is pretty slim, but I’m sure some satellites and Geiger counters have picked something up already. Cloak everything and make it so that nobody else finds this place, okay?”

Kelex answered immediately. “Of course, Kal. Would you like intangible cloaking or dimensional cloaking?” Kelex had gone over these measures earlier, and Clark was still astounded that both these things were even possible.

“Intangible’s fine,” he said quickly. He wasn’t exactly ready to go dimension-hopping any time soon and didn’t feel the need to make it a necessity at the moment. “Make it invisible too. Thanks, Kelex.”

Clark grabbed his jacket from the chair he’d tossed it on during one of his lessons and put it on before taking off into the air and departing through one of the spaces in the ceiling. He looked back at the crystal structure and watched it disappear as he flew higher, gaining altitude to avoid being seen. He assessed his phone’s GPS on the way up, saving the coordinates so that he knew where to come back to.

Once high enough, he started to fly southwest and gradually willed himself to hypersonic speeds. This was one of his favorite things to do, because the wind on his face was peaceful and there was no noise at all. He could just think. Making a mental note to ask Kelex next time of a way to make it home more quickly, he cruised uneasily with the realization of just how much he didn’t know. Clark knew he could have asked about Krypton and his father, but he just wasn’t ready for it. All he wanted now was to get home, talk to Lana for a bit, and sleep for the next twelve hours. He just hoped his speed wouldn’t attract too much attention.

After twenty minutes of flying, he started to slow down when he reached Missouri. He continued to watch out for planes, thankful that at this height he could see for miles without the curvature of the earth being much of a hindrance. Eventually he descended, cruising slowly beside Keystone City and then gliding out over the highway until he saw a large sign that read: SMALLVILLE. He checked his watch and was happy to find he’d made it home before nine.

One shower later, Clark was lying on his bed and staring at the blank ceiling above him. The last few years had been so full, but he felt like it had just blew by without him and now everything was catching up to him. College in Denver was over before it really began since he overloaded his life with courses year-round. So many young people like him had the expectation that they were supposed to have everything figured out by graduation, but just like the majority of others he had never felt more lost than when he’d come home in his cap and gown. He was lucky to have earned a few scholarships both before and during college, so his loan debt was minimal and the least of his worries. But the heaviest feeling was the wanderlust, the nagging need to fly away that gripped him and sent him all over the world to find some sort of meaning or sense of home. Clark loved his mother and he loved Smallville, but he’d felt out of place even before he was told he wasn’t human. The only thing that made him feel human was spending time with strangers in foreign countries and living to enjoy company.

He’d been anxious about bringing up the prospect to his mother but she gave him nothing but encouragement when he did. She reassured him countless times that she’d have help on the farm, and with Jonathan’s life insurance policy and her pension (from her decently long tenure as Smallville’s sheriff), she wouldn’t want for money.

It was liminal timeframes like these where the melancholy of being a 25-year-old extraterrestrial weighed upon him. Clark was in a mood to brood further, but alas, it was not to be. Charging on his nightstand, his phone buzzed. It was Lana again.

_Turn on your laptop. We’re video-chatting in five minutes._

Clark raised an eyebrow at the text. Lana was quite the assertive woman, but also very soft and sweet when she wanted to be. Like now, she usually gravitated toward the former. Happy to have her take his mind off things, he grabbed his laptop from the desk, turned it on and carried it back to his bed before answering her.

_Rather presumptuous of you._

When his computer finished booting up he went on Skype. His phone buzzed again.

 _Quite. One might even call it brazen, forward or audacious. But if you don’t I’ll come over there and kick your ass_ :)

Clark saw her username with a green dot next to it pop up, so he clicked the video call option. A couple seconds later, he saw her face.

Lana’s cheeks were flushed and her hair was damp, strands of it sticking to her temples and forehead. Her face was covered in freckles as always, but the light on her end made the ones on her nose and cheeks stand out darker. She was cross-legged on her bed wearing long mismatched socks and a large red shirt that said: CENTRAL CITY UNIVERISTY. Whatever lamp she had on made it so that she was awash in gold, and when she tilted her head with a wide smile at seeing her friend pop up on her screen, her brown eyes captured the light and glowed.

“Hi, Clark.”

Clark was never so grateful to have super speed and enhanced perception than in that moment, because he knew he would’ve never been able to stop himself from staring. His eyes drank her in for what felt like minutes but were surely only seconds to her.

“Hey, Lana. What’s up?” he answered as passively as he could. She was holding a pen and a spiral notebook in her lap, and Clark was thankful to have something else to look at for a moment. She seemed to have been scribbling something in it when she answered the call.

“Just got back from an absolutely torturous three hour class and took a show – wait. Are you _naked_?”

Lana leaned forward, squinting at the image on her screen. Her face scrunched up in confusion, and then relaxed into a curious expression with a raised eyebrow. She saw Clark look down at himself incredulously to find his bare torso on display.

“What? No, I’m still wearing pants,” he answered, looking at himself in the right-hand corner of his screen and realizing she obviously couldn’t see them since the image was cut off above his waist. “Let me put on a shirt.”

Lana’s eyes flickered between his chest and his face. “Sure. If you insist.”

She saw him get up and return a few seconds later wearing a blue t-shirt. He must have turned another light on because she could see him much more clearly now.

“Better?” he asked as he sat back down.

Lana looked at his chest again and shrugged, mentally deciding that no, it was not better but instead considerably less favorable. She put on her signature smirk and looked at his face. “Like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by your nipples, I just came from a three hour class on advanced fluid mechanics. A liberal amount of sympathy would be appreciated.”

“Sounds like fun. Maybe I’ll get my Masters in Mechanical Engineering with a Specialization in Energy Systems too.”

She was mildly impressed that he’d memorized the exact title of her degree program and could barely suppress her smile, though she did manage it. Instead, she raised an eyebrow challengingly. Clark sighed.

“Okay fine,” he offered, infusing his voice with an even more intense wave of sarcasm. “‘Aww poor Lana and her three hour class. That’s _obviously_ something _egregiously_ awful and she totally deserves better than to be bored in an advanced class because she’s just _soooo_ smart.’ How’s that?”

“Better, I guess,” she replied, rolling her eyes. Tossing her pen and notebook aside, she scooted closer to her laptop to bring it just in front of her knees and get a better look at her friend. “Anyway, how was your trip? When’d you get back? Tell me every little detail, and leave absolutely nothing out.”

Clark told her as much about his trip as he thought prudent, which was actually quite a bit. He’d been more open with Lana than anyone else over the years (with the exception of his mother), and the only thing he ever really held back from her was anything involving his powers. He trusted Lana and knew she wasn’t one to be judgmental, but a small part of him still feared the potential for rejection and awkwardness between them. During his regalement she reacted with a wide variety of expressions and interjections, all absolutely sincere. One of the many things that made him fond of Lana was her inability, or at least unwillingness, to hide her emotions. He always thought her braver than him because of it.

“I’m glad you were able to do all that,” said Lana when he finished. “I know I was the most eager to leave the nest, but you needed to get out of Smallville for a while too.”

Clark nodded. A while ago, he’d come to the conclusion that though he loved his home, he didn’t want to stay. “Yeah, I definitely don’t regret it. But what have you been up to besides complaining about your courses?”

Lana gave him a look. “Volunteering at the animal shelter down the street and going to lots of parties. They’re both great stress relievers, you know.”

“I’m not much of a party person.”

“Don’t I know it,” she muttered, reaching up to pull her hair back into a ponytail. “Now, when are you coming over?”

Clark stared at the live video and found Lana staring back at him with an expectant look. Knowing she wasn’t the patient one in their friendship, he gathered his wits again and answered.

“You…want me to come over?”

“Well, duh,” she replied in an exaggerated drawl. It was then her slight Kansas accent came out. “I haven’t seen you in person in almost two years so you’d better get that farm-boy ass over to Central City pronto. I don’t exactly have time to go all the way back to Smallville for an extended stay but you certainly do.”

Lana wouldn’t have told him, of course, but she was actually really nervous about asking him. She’d always felt like they were in an unorthodox friendship. They were really good friends, but they weren’t exactly as close as siblings would be. The two of them were constantly around each other in high school, but after graduation they’d drifted apart and only occasionally wandered back into each other’s orbits. They had cell phones and laptops to help keep them in touch, but in reality they didn’t talk all that much. Sometimes they’d spend days or weeks talking nonstop and then months would go by without a word between them. Nothing overtly romantic had happened either, but there was an odd and palpable magnetism between them that was anything but platonic. At least, that’s what she felt on her end. Even though Clark seemed to be open with her, his reserved personality always made her feel like there was a part of him she’d never get to see. The realization of how much she wanted to see it surprised her and made her uneasy, but after years of practice she’d gotten good at playing it off. The distance helped too, but she was getting tired of it.

Clark was taken aback at the prospect of Lana wanting him to come to Central City to see her. Sure, his mom had talked about it merely hours before, but the actual possibility of it hadn’t even occurred to him. He didn’t answer.

Two short knocks shattered the tension between them. It was on Lana’s end, and she turned toward the sound with a look of pure annoyance. It faded quickly, however, melting into a sigh of resignation. “Come in.”

A short, pale blonde girl came bouncing through the doorway and stopped behind Lana, just close enough so that Clark could see her pretty clearly. Strangely, she was wearing gray sweatpants with red pumps. “You still coming to the party tonight, Lana?” the girl asked. “Because if you are, you should start getting – oh, _hello_!”

The girl’s gray eyes widened as they fell on Lana’s laptop screen. She turned back to Lana, who was uncharacteristically stoic at the moment. “And who is this handsome fellow?”

“Keep it in your pants,” Lana grumbled. “This is my friend Clark. Clark, this is my roommate Chloe.”

Clark waved awkwardly at his screen and put on an amiable smile. “Nice to meet you, Chloe.”

“Likewise, Clark,” she said with a wave of her own. She looked at Lana again. “So…party or no?”

Lana looked at Clark again and then cast her eyes down slowly. Her change in mood was not lost on him. “Nah. Not really in the mood tonight.”

“You sure?”

“I think you should go,” interjected Clark suddenly, deciding to throw caution to the wind. Both girls turned back to him, but he was looking directly at Lana. “Blow off some steam after that awful three hour class. I’ll let you go get ready. Besides, I’m kinda tired and should get some sleep if I’m gonna be driving over tomorrow. Say around one?”

Lana’s eyes met his and this time she couldn’t suppress the smile that made its way onto her face. Clark couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Yeah,” said Lana softly. “That’s perfect.”

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bye, Lana.”

“Bye. Oh and Clark?”

He was just about to end the call when he looked back up again. Lana cocked her head to the right a bit the way she always did when being playful. Clark stared, distracted. “Yeah?”

A smirk graced her lips and her voice came out a bit lower than usual. “Don’t be late.”


	2. Reunited and It Feels So...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lana finally meet up and see each other again. Lots of internal angst.

Lana woke up to a window full of sunlight and an apartment full of noise. Both her blinds and her door were open, which was odd for her, and she still wore last night’s clothes. Her mind drifted to the night before. She’d gone out with Chloe and a few other friends to a house party and danced for hours. She hadn’t drunk that much this time, and was thankful for the clear-ish head in the morning. However, she still had an intense aversion to being woken up.

Her legs rolled her out of bed and she immediately marched toward the source of the sound in preparation to give it a piece of her mind. She found Chloe blending fruits and ice to make smoothies amid a small mess in the kitchen. Lana rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn.

“Oh good, you’re up. I’m making smoothies,” called Chloe over the sound of the blender. “How much do you want? It’s strawberry and banana.”

Lana’s face was expressionless. “I appreciate the offer, but do you really need to do this so early in the morning?”

Chloe gave her an incredulous look, stopping the blender. “Early? It’s 12:30.”

Lana’s eyes immediately doubled in size as her head whipped around to look at the time on the microwave. It was exactly as Chloe had said. Her jaw dropped. “Shit!” Lana immediately bolted back into her room and grabbed her phone. She’d received a text from Clark about an hour ago, asking for her address. “Shit shit shit shit _shit_!”

“What the hell?” she heard Chloe call from the kitchen. Lana made her way back to her friend and roommate at breakneck speed.

“Clark’s coming!” she huffed, stopping in the open space between the kitchen and the hallway leading to the bathroom. Her stance was frantic. “He’s gonna be here in half an hour and _I don’t have enough time to get ready_!”

“Oh, your hot friend from last night?” Chloe asked with a tilt of her head. She waved her hand nonchalantly, moving to put her dirty dishes in the sink. “Don’t worry, nobody ever makes it anywhere exactly when they say they will. Besides, all you have to do is shower and get dressed. You shaved your legs last night and you only ever wear mascara.”

Lana had turned to high-tail it to the bathroom but stopped at Chloe’s answer. She whipped back around impatiently. “You don’t understand. Clark Kent has never been late to anything in his life. If anything, he’s fashionably early, and I’m currently a huge mess that still smells like a Friday night.”

“Dude, he’s a good friend of yours, right? Wouldn't he understand if he drops by and you’re still in the shower?” said Chloe, now doing the dishes. She looked at Lana with a confused look. “Why are you freaking out so hard?”

Lana blinked, thinking that that question was considerably valid. She’d known Clark forever and she’d never been strung out like this, not that Chloe would know. Deciding not to answer, Lana jogged to the bathroom and tore her clothes off. She texted Clark her address while brushing her teeth, and then immediately took a scalding hot shower in an attempt to relax. She scrubbed her whole body twice just to be safe and made sure to condition her hair. Even while wet it fell only to between her shoulder blades, and not for the first time she felt grateful for having straight hair. She wouldn’t have to worry about styling much after drying, which would be an immense help while pressed for time. After showering, she dashed back to her room in her towel, passing Chloe who was now on the couch watching a movie on her laptop.

Lana’s routine was never much of an involved affair, but seeing that it was 12:50 on her phone, she still felt a huge amount of pressure and her heart hammered against her ribs. She locked her door, dumped her dirty clothes in her laundry bag, and tossed her towel on the back of her desk chair. After applying lotion and perfume, she got dressed and applied a little mascara. With a wink at herself in the mirror, she tousled her damp hair and shook it out before heading back to the living room. It was 12:59.

 

Clark couldn’t have hidden his excitement even if he’d wanted to. He’d gotten up early that Saturday morning and helped the three Ross boys with the Kent Farm’s chores as they did on the weekends for Martha. In exchange, she had made the four boys and herself a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and bacon before going into town to get groceries (like the self-sufficient woman she was) and leaving Clark to do the dishes, which he didn’t mind in the slightest. He usually found it a bit tedious despite being able to get them done quickly, but today, nothing could bring him down.

Clark had told his mother he was going to see Lana later that day, much to her delight. She practically shooed him off when he did, giving him the standard lecture of how to be a gentleman and how not to be an asshole. He reminded her that he and Lana were friends and this was a friendly visit, but she’d hear none of it. So when Martha had left and the Rosses were on their way back home, Clark left for Central City, driving a little faster than the speed limit in his excitement.

On the way there, Clark found the heaviness of the previous day’s events weigh on him again. He’d eventually have to go back to that crystal monument, and soon, but he decided that he’d deal with that later. Today was about Lana.

He’d texted Lana for her address when he left, and was a little worried when he didn’t get an answer for a while. She always texted back in a timely manner. It wasn’t until he was coming up on the outskirts of Central City that he got her text, a little after 12:30. He cruised through the streets, finding his way to her apartment building after parking and using his cellphone to map the route. He was early, so he dipped into the pizzeria around the corner and got a couple of pies to go. Lana loved pizza and had a huge appetite, so Clark figured she’d be decently hungry waking up after a night out. He also knew that Lana wasn’t a morning person, so he doubted she’d eaten anything so far and would therefore enjoy a few slices.

The pizza was ready pretty quickly and smelled great, so he tossed a couple of bucks into the tip jar on the way out. Making his way back to her building and up the stairs to the apartment number Lana had given him, he looked at his watch to see if he was still on time. A small smile slid onto his face. It was 12:59.

Clark rang the doorbell once and then lightly knocked twice. The door was flung open from the inside by his favorite redheaded female. Lana stared up at him in the doorway with wide eyes and an even wider smile on her face. Clark could hear her heart hammering in her chest from where he stood, and he knew his must have been the same way. Instead of focusing on that, he returned her smile.

“Hey,” he said. In place of an answer, he saw Lana lurch forward a little and bring her arms up to hug him. She apparently hadn’t seen the two pizza boxes he was holding, because she bumped right into them. Clark chuckled before he could stop himself.

“Shit,” Lana muttered, an uncharacteristically uneasy laugh escaping her lips. “Aren’t I just the smoothest woman you’ve ever met?”

“Obviously,” Clark replied. He looked around the hall, which was deserted except for them. “May I come in?”

“You’d better. Is that pizza?”

“Mm-hmm. One plain cheese and the other is half sausage and half pepperoni.”

Lana’s eyes went wide with excitement. Upon hearing that news she grabbed his upper arm and tugged, pulling him inside with the pizza. “Okay, get in here so I can hug the crap out of you.”

She took the boxes from him and put them on the counter before proceeding to fling herself into Clark’s arms. She felt his chest vibrate with laughter as she hooked her legs around his waist and wrapped her arms over his shoulders. He held her easily, and she buried her face in his neck.

“You spoil me, you know,” she whispered, squeezing tightly.

“Nah, I just treat you like everyone should,” he chuckled casually.

All of a sudden Lana could hear her blood pumping in her ears and the warmth coming from his body.

“Do y’all need a room?” said Chloe from the couch. She was stretched out, lying luxuriously in blue leggings and a black t-shirt. Her hair was up in a messy bun. Lana brought her head up to look at her roommate, who was smirking at them over her laptop.

“No, the kitchen is fine,” Lana said challengingly. Clark let her back down onto the floor.

“Kinky,” Chloe replied, focusing on her movie. Lana rolled her eyes.

“Clark brought pizza. You’re welcome to have some.”

Chloe took out her headphones and looked back up at them. “He did?” She got up and walked over to the kitchen, stopping next to them to look at the boxes. “Now _I_ want to marry him.”

Clark chuckled. “I feel like we’re missing a few steps in between, Chloe,” he said, opening both boxes.

Lana immediately grabbed a pepperoni slice and took a large bite while leaning over the other side of the box. Her eyes rolled back in her head and the sound that came from her throat was downright lascivious. “God, I love pizza.”

Chloe and Clark both grabbed a slice for themselves. “Why’d you get half and half?” Chloe asked. “You could’ve put both toppings across the whole pizza for the same price, you know.”

“Lana likes them separate so she can choose one or the other,” he said passively, swallowing a large bite of a plain slice and taking another. “She likes both, but doesn’t always want them at the same time.”

Lana’s face flushed as she chewed and listened. He was absolutely right, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember ever telling him that. It’s not like they, or anyone else for that matter, had pizza much in Smallville. Chloe shrugged at the answer.

“Should’ve guessed. Lana is a weirdo, but you already knew that.”

“I like the autonomy of choice. Sue me.” Lana was already down to the crust on her slice, chewing with her eyes closed. Clark took the opportunity to get his first good look at her.

Lana was leaning over the counter, weight on one leg and bending the other. She was wearing a white sleeveless crop top and white short shorts that didn’t even stop mid-thigh. The shirt was snug around her ribcage and the shorts ended with a frayed hem that hugged the muscle of her thighs. A red flannel shirt was tied around her waist and partly obscuring her legs, but from where Clark was standing he could see them easily. They were thicker than one would normally expect from one of her slim frame, the muscles rippling as she leaned on one side. His eyes followed the curve of her hamstrings down to the slope of her calves and saw that she was barefoot, standing partly on her toes. Her nails, like the ones on her fingers, were painted a vibrant green. Clark went back to eating his pizza, oblivious to the fact that Lana was staring at him too, albeit less noticeably.

She finished her pepperoni slice and grabbed a sausage one while letting her mind ramble as it did so often. Along with Chloe, Lana and Clark ate in mildly uncomfortable silence, and she couldn’t seem to stop her eyes from darting back to him every few seconds. She caught his eyes on her too, but couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It was one of the very few things about Clark that frustrated her. Lana had taught herself a long time ago not to be ashamed of her emotions and so had unlearned her ability to hide them well. Clark was the opposite. He had the most impressive poker face she’d ever seen, so when it was devoid of expression (like now), she figured he could be thinking about anything from Star Wars lightsaber battles to weird fetishes he might have accidentally come across on the internet. _Yeah, right_ , she thought with a smirk. As if pure and innocent Clark Kent would ever be so depraved.

Lana chomped another bite of pizza. Chloe murmured a token of thanks to Clark for bringing the pizza and left them alone in the kitchen to return to her movie. Clark was engrossed in his food now, and Lana decided to openly watch him. She knew he had a large appetite but as memory served her he didn’t usually eat this much. Maybe he was watching his figure. He certainly looked like he took care of himself. Clark was always very lean but had a wide frame, with broad shoulders and a waist smaller than one would expect on a guy that tall. Lana remembered seeing him at Smallville High’s post-graduation barbecue at the lake and being floored by how he looked wearing only swimming trunks. Most guys with a body like that would go out of their way to show it off, but she’d never even seen him remove his shirt when playing basketball outside in gym class like most of the others did. He seemed even bigger now, but it was hard for Lana to tell since he was still wearing his jacket. It was open though, so she could clearly see his wine red Henley shirt and dark blue jeans that hugged his legs in certain places.

Clark’s hair was different from how it was the last time she saw him. It wasn’t longer, but thicker somehow. He’d styled it differently, so that less of his wavy locks flopped down the sides of his head and instead stayed on top. If one wasn’t paying attention it would look like it was meticulously styled, but Lana noticed that even though his hair was collectively shaped a certain way, the individual hairs were sticking up in different directions. She decided she liked the look – styled enough to be presentable but messy enough to have some character. Her fingers twitched with the urge to touch him. Instead, Lana reached for a plain slice this time to round out her meal and noticed there was only half a pie left. She looked at Clark, who was finishing a slice. He’d only eaten plain ones so far.

“I know this seems redundant since you bought it, but you know there’s pepperoni and sausage over here, right?” Lana said, taking a bite of her last slice. Clark looked at her a little too quickly, as if broken out of a reverie. He took a second to swallow and answer.

“Yeah, but I know you prefer the toppings so I figured I’d let you and Chloe have at them first and I’ll have whatever was left if I was still hungry.” He eyed the plain pie a bit and then shrugged, taking a fourth slice and deciding it would be his last. “And if not, you’ll have them for leftovers.”

Lana hadn’t expected her heart to jolt the way it did at his answer. At this point she was annoyed at herself. _Fuck. Fucking_ fuck _!_ she yelled in her head. Why the hell was she being so sappy today? Clark always said and did stuff like this. She sighed inwardly. Maybe it was the distance and time between them. Even though she loved to think of herself as (and absolutely was) a strong, independent woman who didn’t need anyone, she realized that she’d missed him terribly. She guessed that seeing him now was like drinking water after a long day in the sun, when just a sip is intensified into a feeling of bliss. So here she was, paralyzed with emotion.

She shook her head to clear her mind, but to no avail. How could somebody be so effortlessly considerate? It was a small gesture, sure, but she knew that if in his position she never would’ve thought of that. And he did things like that all the time, especially for her and his mother. But why? His mom, she understood. Clark was definitely a mama’s boy, but if anybody deserved it, it was Martha Kent. That woman was a saint. But for Lana? She couldn’t think of a reason. Why would Clark continue to go out of his way for her at no prompting whatsoever? He was way too good for her. She didn’t deserve –

 _No_ , she told herself, beating back her thoughts. She’d spent way too much time away from home healing to slip back into that way of thinking. It didn’t happen often anymore, but every once in a while something would make that old voice come back and try to beat her down again. Every time it did it sounded a bit more like her father, and with a sneer she forced it back this time. _You are worthy of the good things you have_ , she told herself. _You are worthy of the good people who love you._ Lana took a slow breath and relaxed, realizing she’d been staring unfocused at Clark’s torso. She looked up at him. Their eyes met, and only then did she realize the second voice in her head sounded like his.

“I missed you, Clark,” she said, with as much gravity her voice could muster. “Can we…not go months without talking this time?”

Clark had been watching Lana for a little while and could tell something switched in her mood. Her face was much more serious than it had been, and there was tension in her shoulders. When she looked at him, the normal levity in her eyes was absent. He’d been letting his mind wander over last night’s events and had decided to explore more of what Kelex had shown him, but locking eyes with Lana immediately pulled him into the present. He answered quickly with a smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

Lana returned his smile, but it wasn’t the same as before. She was uneasy, but he couldn’t tell about what. It worried him.

“So, what is there to do in Central City?” he asked, consolidating the slices into one box now that they’d finished eating. Lana’s expression changed to a pensive one.

“A lot, actually. There’s so much going on all the time, and since campus is right in the middle of the city, you’ve got college kids everywhere. I, uh…actually have something planned for us later.”

“Really?” Clark responded, taken aback. He hadn’t expected that. “What is it?”

“ _It_ is a surprise,” she said with her signature smirk back on her face, albeit with redder cheeks. “So no more asking. And it’s not a party. I know you’re not exactly a fan of those.”

“Eh, it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“Noted.” Lana put the pizza box in the refrigerator. There was nothing on the bottom shelf, so it fit just fine. “Wanna take a walk? I wholeheartedly appreciate the pizza but I’m gonna have to burn some calories after all that. Especially if I’m going to be walking next to a body like yours. All muscle-y and whatnot.”

Clark snorted. “Do you own a mirror? Your body’s fine.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, exaggerating a hair flip and walking toward her room. “I’m hot as hell. I’m gonna get my shoes and we’ll go, okay?”

“Sure.”

“Or maybe you can just carry me everywhere?”

“Of course. That’s the only acceptable course of action.”

“I’m glad we agree,” she called. A minute later she returned wearing bright red sneakers and carrying a small clutch. Clark had been taking in every detail of the small apartment he could see from where he was standing, but as always, Lana immediately had his attention when she came back. Long strides carried her past him and to the front door as she untied her shirt from her waist and put it on. His eyes flickered over her legs. His speed and enhanced perception screwed with him sometimes; he had a hard time figuring out if he was staring long enough for her to notice. Clark’s brow furrowed as he forced himself to get a handle on his eyes. He almost never ogled anyone openly since he hated feeling like he was objectifying someone and didn’t want to make anyone who noticed uncomfortable. He looked and appreciated, but hardly ever stared. Clark was well versed in self-control after years of dealing with his powers and enhanced senses, so even around women he’d thought to be breathtakingly beautiful he didn’t have an issue. But for some reason, Lana made it difficult for him.

Clark followed Lana and after giving Chloe a quick goodbye they were off. It was a sunny day in Central City, and as they stepped outside they were hit by a warm breeze that dreamt of spring. Falling into her role as host, Lana became her normal chatterbox self and talked Clark’s ear off about all the sights Central City had to offer.

 

There were three museums and a couple of small parks, but Lana had always been more interested in the more fast-paced settings. She told him about the different neighborhoods and which ones she liked best. With Chloe as a roommate, she lived in what was called “University Town” since it was close to Central City University. Not far from that was Westminster, where the relatively new S.T.A.R. Labs facility was located. Downtown was the City Center, which held most of the office buildings and upscale business. East of University Town was Leawood, whose main attraction was Diamonds Stadium (though Lana couldn’t have cared less about baseball but mentioned it anyway since she knew Clark loved it). Lawrence Hills was a pretty dodgy area on the northwest edge of the city, full of old warehouses and dark alleys. Most of the cool places to see were toward the center of the city, with the suburban residential areas like Danville and Englewood sitting on the outer rim. Central City wasn’t an expensive place to live (certainly not by San Francisco or Coast City standards), but neighborhoods like Windsor Heights and Brookfield were ritzy enough to make it seem so. Lana didn’t frequent these places much. Usually, she spent her time in either University Town, Westminster or the City Center.

Lana ended her monologue in a huff and pulled Clark by the hand into a coffee shop called Jitters eight blocks away from where they’d started. It wasn’t terribly packed, but they did have to wait in line for a bit. She ordered a latte and Clark got a bottle of water.

“Okay, now you talk,” ordered Lana, pulling him off to the side to wait for her coffee at the pick-up station. “You’ve been quiet way too long and my mouth is tired.”

Clark smirked. “Well you didn’t exactly stop long enough for me to get a word in anyway.” Lana gave him a look. “Seems like you’ve done quite a bit of exploring. Do you still know everybody, like in high school?”

He remembered walking through the crowded hallways of Smallville High many a time with Lana, and every few seconds someone would wave or greet her when they walked by. In the present, Lana rolled her eyes at him.

“Not _everybody_. It’s kind of hard to be super popular in a city this big. Though obviously anybody who’s met me here so far has fallen madly in love with me.”

“Obviously.”

Lana looked around the café. “Actually, I do know a few people in here. See that girl on her laptop? No, the one with the blue hair. She and her girlfriend volunteer at the animal shelter with me on Thursdays. And the barista at the counter was in one of my lectures last year.”

Clark nodded and put his hands in his pockets. “Guess it’s not called ‘University Town’ for nothing.”

“Oh, and see that guy over there?” Lana put a hand on Clark’s arm and pointed covertly with the other one at a slim young man with dirty blond hair and eyes as blue as Clark’s. He was sitting at a table by the door, typing away at his laptop. “He tutored me in Forensics when I took it for shits and giggles after transferring in senior year. Not my finest moment but he was great. Dude’s a genius. He got a full ride with the Wayne Foundation scholarship and everything.”

One of the workers called Lana’s name and she picked up her latte before heading to the exit with Clark at her side. Clark thought the man by the door was rather young looking. He couldn’t have been as old as they were, but he was sure he was older than he looked. Lana waved at the blond to get his attention.

“Hi, Barry!” she said brightly on their way out. He smiled amiably.

“Oh, hey, Lana,” he said with a wave before going back to his laptop.

Lana pushed through the door, and they were back out in the Central City sun.

 

Clark and Lana spent most of their time out walking in the park by the Railroad Museum that sat on the border between Westminster and Lawrence Hills. Eventually they found a couple of benches and decided to take a break from the walking. Lana would never say it out loud, but her feet and legs were already sore from trekking around town. She worked out at the gym a couple times a week, but she was not an endurance or cardio person. Clark seemed so at ease to her then, and she wondered how he maintained his figure while traveling for the past few months. She chuckled inwardly. Lana wasn’t exactly jealous. It was mere curiosity, and more than a little appreciation, of course.

The wind was picking up, so Clark gave Lana his jacket since she hadn’t brought one. She wrapped it around her shoulders appreciatively, and sat down sideways on the opposite end of the bench so she could rest her legs in his lap.

Clark was enjoying himself. He hadn’t spent much of the past few months in that great of a mood. With every place he went, he seemed to gravitate toward the more afflicted areas. For over half a year he was surrounded by the sick, the poor, the dying, the defeated, and the hopeless. As much as he kept his positivity and as much as he recognized his privilege when helping people, all of it took its toll after a while. It was nice to be back with a familiar face and enjoy the distraction from his worries.

He felt Lana shiver a bit and watched the skin on her legs break out into goosebumps. His hand moved back and forth over them almost lazily, warming them up. It was a half-unconscious movement, his mind still drifting. Clark’s hand seemed to have moved of its own accord, but he consciously kept it going.

The two of them sitting in this position was nothing new, and they leaned into it comfortably. Yet, in their silence, Lana was now acutely aware of her own heartbeat. She watched as Clark examined the clear sky in deep thought, eventually relaxing into his touch. Lana appreciated that there was never anything weird about the physicality of their relationship. She remembered how, in high school, everyone would obsess over the simplest brush of a shoulder or nudge of an arm. Meanwhile, she’d never hesitated to climb on Clark’s back just for the hell of it. Granted, they’d known each other since they were thirteen, so they were bound to have been pretty comfortable with each other on some level. Lana was naturally a very openly affectionate person, but too many boys would misconstrue that as sexual interest and eventually she taught herself to dial it back to avoid the hassle. It was nice that she’d never had to with Clark. He wasn’t the most physical person, but he was comfortable with the way she was.

Clark had never made any sexual advances toward her either. It confused her at first, when they were younger. Practically every straight guy she knew in high school made at least some sort of pass at her, and it had only slightly lessened in college. Now, she was appreciative of Clark’s deviation from the norm. She knew he was into girls at least, since she’d occasionally heard him agree when their friend Pete would go on about how hot some girls were and even checked some out for himself at times. But she never heard Clark express those sentiments outwardly.

Lana thought it was better that way for her. Expecting and even wanting objectification for validation wasn’t healthy, and she’d put too much effort into herself to entertain that notion. In this regard, Clark was perfect, because he and his mother were literally the only two people in her life who had ever given her support and positive reinforcement without there ever being a time they took it away. Lana smiled to herself. Even if over the last six years they’d spent less time talking than not, Clark was her best friend. That was something that had been proven time and time again, and it didn’t seem likely to change. 

 

Clark continued to stare at the sky. He’d been ruminating over his friendship with Lana for the last few minutes, but now he was listening to her heartbeat. It was powerful, steady, and a little fast, as if she were excited. Over the years he’d learned to identify her heartbeat with different moods and emotions, but every now and then he’d stop and listen just to enjoy knowing that she was there next to him. He’d come to terms with his feelings for Lana early on, but after going to college, working, and travelling, he’d gotten used to not having her around. It was an odd feeling. Being off on his own away from home brought peace and liberation, but they came with an intense loneliness he hadn’t been prepared to experience. He’d gotten used to the feeling of solitude even when among people, but every time he saw and talked to Lana those feelings would go away, and his affection for her would show up again to take their place.

“What about that sky is so interesting, Clark?”

Lana’s voice shattered his silent reflection. He blinked, looking around like he was lost. There weren’t many people around in their section of the park, which provided a certain intimacy despite being in public.

“Huh?”

Lana smiled as wide as Clark had ever seen her and giggled. “You’re looking at it like it’s holding the secrets of the universe. What’s on your mind?”

Clark studied her face, wondering what he should say. He didn’t want to bombard her with his issues, but didn’t want to lie either.

“I missed you,” he decided to tell her. Lana’s smile shrank but didn’t disappear, only covered by the unconscious biting of her lip. She let out a shaky laugh.

“Well, of course you did,” she replied. “I’m quite the awesome friend.”

“That you are,” Clark laughed. Lana wiggled her feet a bit in his lap and tapped her hands against her thighs. Clark tuned back in to her heartbeat. It was fast and a little irregular. She was anxious. Before he could ask what was wrong, she spoke again.

“I have a game,” she blurted, pulling her hands up to undo her ponytail and let her hair fall back down. Clark’s face told her he was more than confused. She wasn’t sure why she’d decided on this course of action, but she was pretty certain that her brain and mouth were no longer working together.

“Okay, what is it?” Clark asked warily.

“We’re, uh, going to ask each other questions and the other has to answer truthfully, no matter what. We can’t repeat each other’s questions and the first to decline to answer is paying for dinner.”

Lana eyed him uneasily, as if she were unsure of her decision. Clark found that weird. She usually seemed so confident and self-assured when taking action. “Hmm. Alrighty, ladies first.”

She thought for a moment, relaxing a bit and silently thanking Clark for his easygoing nature. “What was the craziest thing to happen to you on this last trip?”

Clark laughed immediately in remembrance. “A jaguar pooped in my hat once,” he answered.

Lana’s expression instantly switched to one of joy as she threw her head back in a peal of laughter. The sound made his heart jolt in his chest.

“No fucking way!” she exclaimed, barely able to breathe. “How the hell did that happen?”

Clark turned his body diagonally to face her with her legs still in his lap. “I was in Peru and I stumbled upon this organization that tries to protect jaguars from poachers and ranchers. They’re endangered over there. Anyway, this guy, Joaquin, was on duty to study them and learn more about their habitats and behavioral patterns and all that so I tagged along. I’d never seen a jaguar in person before! It was really cool.”

Lana listened, enraptured by Clark’s sudden spike in excited energy. She loved when he got like this. It didn’t happen enough.

“So we were out close to the edge of the forest,” he continued, “and we saw a couple. They’re actually really beautiful. We had binoculars since we didn’t want to get too close, but that ended up not working out. We missed one and had to high-tail it out of there before it got close enough to attack us. They’re not particularly friendly. Joaquin drove so we were fine, but I’d realized I’d forgotten my hat in the rush. I look back with my binoculars as he’s driving to see the little guy leaving a steaming pile on my hat while looking right at us.”

Lana was in a fit of giggles for so long that by the time she calmed down, her cheeks hurt. “What a power move! I wonder if jaguars normally go out of their way to shit on things.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t get to ask,” Clark laughed. “Okay, my turn. If you could have any mythical creature as a pet, what would it be?”

“Hmm. A Pegasus. Riding horses was one of Smallville’s few highlights and I’ve always wanted to fly.”

Clark filed that in the back of his mind. Lana spoke again. “If you were in medieval times and you could choose your place in society, who would you be? What job would you take?”

“Blacksmith.”

“What?” said Lana, shaking her head in disbelief. “Seriously, a blacksmith?

“Yep. Why is that so surprising?” Clark was giving her his own playful look. Lana relished it.

“I don’t know. You’ve always seemed more like a knight to me. Quite the example of chivalry.”

“Preposterous. I know nothing of medieval battle etiquette.” Clark felt her slap his arm. His expression turned slightly more serious. “There’s honor in the simplicity of building things. Blacksmiths built the essential tools for day-to-day living, not just the weapons and armor. They helped people live. I wouldn’t want to be a knight. I’d never want to just fight and serve.”

Lana understood. She felt similarly, but knew it wasn’t for the same reasons. Clark was probably the most upstanding person she would ever meet, and she was certain that any action he took was done to make something better no matter how big or small it was. If Clark was given no other choice, he absolutely would fight. But he’d hate it because to him, it would feel like the wrong thing to do. Lana would never “serve,” purely out of stubbornness. She knew that if she did fight, it would be because she was angry (even if it was rightfully so), and would probably enjoy it until it was over. A wave of sadness and inferiority washed over Lana. The difference between her and Clark was that Lana’s choices stemmed from hurt, and his came from a sense of loneliness. It was times like now when Lana would notice, see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. She always wondered, and hated, whatever made him feel like that. He didn’t deserve it for a second. Clark loved the world and everyone in it. Lana cast her eyes down in the shame of her self-reflection. Lana hated the world and how it treated the majority of its people. Clark wanted to make it better. She wanted to make it pay.

“Stop.” Clark’s voice broke her train of thought. It was soft yet rough, almost like a whisper or a breeze.

“What?” breathed Lana. If she wasn’t uneasy before, she definitely was now.

“Whatever it is you’re thinking, stop it. You’ve got ‘the melancholy face.’”

She couldn’t help but smile at his tone. “Melancholy face? This isn't English class, buddy.’”

“Yep. It's the 'lost in thought and kind of sad' face. You don’t exactly hide your emotions well.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she mumbled. Clark slid his hand into hers, his fingers squeezing around hers. She squeezed back reflexively and sighed. “You’re the best friend anyone could ever have, do you know that? You _radiate_ goodness. Like, how is that even a thing?”

Clark chuckled timidly. He didn’t know what to say. Coming from Lana this was a bit out of the ordinary. If Lana gave anyone a compliment, it was almost always accompanied by a mild insult to balance it out. He was never exempt from that treatment, so he found it strange that she sounded so sincere now.

Lana stared ahead. “It's not in me to be like that. Effortlessly good, I mean.”

Clark’s concern grew. A minute ago they were laughing together and now there was this tension between them. Something in Lana’s head was bothering her a lot, but he couldn’t put all the pieces of the puzzle together to figure out what. He decided just to answer. “It’s not effortless, you know. It’s just choosing the right thing in the moment. Of course you can do it. Anyone can.”

She looked at him with an exasperated sigh. “That’s what I mean. You see me as better than I am, and you almost make me believe it too. It’s kinda frustrating, feeling better and worse about myself when you’re around.”

He hadn’t expected that. Since they’d met in middle school, Clark had known that Lana had had a hard childhood. Eventually she told him the specifics, but long before then he’d decided that he would do everything in his power to make sure she felt loved and appreciated. But apparently he hadn't done that great a job. How could he have been so careless? “I’m sorry I make you feel worse. I didn’t –”

Lana’s eyes widened as she realized what she said. She’d stopped thinking and just let the words pour out of her, which was a terrible mistake. She pulled her legs back and brought herself forward, landing to sit on her knees at Clark’s side. Her hands came up and grazed his neck before stopping on his face. She made him look at her. “No, hey! No – no, God, no! I promise it’s not you. You’ve never been anything less than great to me – never ever. _I promise_. It’s just…you know me. You know why I had to get out of Smallville. But once I did, it was like nothing changed. Everywhere you look, people are getting treated like dirt. Sometimes it’s more subtle, but it’s there and I hate it. I hate it so much, Clark. I hate that everything around us is set up to make us feel like my parents made me feel.”

Clark was speechless, but even if he wasn’t he wouldn’t have responded. He knew when Lana had more to say, and this was one of those times. Instead he took her words in, immediately understanding the sentiment. Even if he’d only listened to the news or read articles online, he would’ve felt the same. He hadn’t needed to trek around the world to see she was right. If people weren’t discriminated for their race, they were judged by their gender. If people weren’t dismissed for having disabilities, they were persecuted for their sexuality. If people weren’t exploited for being poor and desperate, they were having their insecurities used against them. No matter what, billions of people around the world faced society’s ruthlessness, and it seemed like nobody could do a damn thing about it. But Clark was lucky. So far he’d had a life spared of many of the horrible things people had to go through every day. He’d never been abused the way Lana had been. And though the two of them were both emotional people and felt everything strongly, her hurt turned into rage, and his empathy turned into sorrow. Now she thought less of herself because of it.

“I’m just so angry all the time,” she continued. “Maybe you haven’t gone through it all but I know you’ve seen horrible things firsthand. How can you see what I see, feel what I feel…and still have hope?”

Lana’s hands had fallen from Clark’s face and into her lap. She sat back on her heels, suddenly exhausted but still desperate for his answer. They’d never shied away from meaningful discussions, but she couldn’t remember feeling this vulnerable and exposed in any of them. It was torture.

Clark stared out at the park. They were completely alone now, and the shadows of the trees stretched out long over the paved paths in the light of the late afternoon sun. It would be setting soon. As much as he loved being out during the day, it was at night when he felt most hopeful. Hope wasn’t something you always carried with you. It was a friend you could count on to always show up when needed.

“Because if I didn’t,” Clark said, “I wouldn’t have made it home.”

Lana’s eyebrows creased. That was uncharacteristically enigmatic and ominous coming from Clark. It worried her. “What do you mean?”

Clark looked her in the eyes and held his gaze there for a few seconds. The sunlight illuminated her irises and he could see a faint shade of green in the brown. He smiled sadly. “I guess I’m paying for dinner.”

 

Despite the drastic change in discussion, their walk out of the park and deeper into Westminster was as light and devoid of heaviness as could be. Clark and Lana never had a problem talking about different things, and often took the comfort and fluidity between them for granted. He didn’t know about Lana, but Clark knew that for him it was hard to remember that not everybody was as easy to talk to.

As they walked the length of Infantino Street, Lana told him about her graduate classes, zany professors, and grueling projects. He was so proud of her for having the discipline and drive to get where she wanted because there were too many instances when he felt lost, or when overthinking led to inaction. He admire her for that. Lana was graduating in a couple of months, and she’d be on her way to designing and inventing things that would change the world. Clark knew she had that potential, even if she wouldn’t admit that to herself.

“You’d better let me know when you get your work published and patented,” Clark told her. “I’ll be throwing you a huge party and have your articles framed on my wall, just to let you know.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she chuckled. “I thought _I_ was supposed to be extra.”

“And you are. That would be me responding appropriately to your accomplishments. The equilibrium remains intact.”

“ _Pfft_. Nerd.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“You’re an actual five year old. Wait, hold on,” she said, stopping him by holding his arm. They’d been walking straight for eleven blocks or so, and now they were standing on a corner next to a church. Clark figured they were going back to her apartment, but it seemed Lana had other plans. She pulled him around the corner by the hand and led him to the left.

“Where are we going?” asked Clark, after realizing this wasn’t the same area they’d walked through earlier that day.

“To your surprise,” Lana said with a bright smile, still leading him by the hand. “Or did you forget?”

They were almost to the edge of Westminster leading back into University Town when Clark saw where Lana was taking him. Spanning the whole block was a colossal cylindrical building that reminded Clark of Madison Square Garden, but instead of being flat at the top it was domed. Lana had taken him to S.T.A.R. Labs.

The inside of the building was beautiful to him, with large, glossy white tiles covering the floors. Everything was streamlined and shiny, giving it a futuristic vibe. The entranceway was forked, splitting to the left and the right a few feet from the doors. On the left was a long path that descended into a clearing with a locked door and an elevator, both exclusively for authorized personnel. On the right was a short spiral staircase that led into a small lobby with a man at the front desk set against the right wall. The open area was flooded with people of all ages, chattering excitedly. There were monitors mounted to the walls above them, showing a virtual tour of the facility recorded jointly by world-renown Doctors Emil Hamilton and Harrison Wells. The facility held massive labs in the lower levels of the west side that conducted research on a variety of disciplines such as biomechanics and nanotechnology, and the entire east side of the building was a museum.

Lana retrieved the clutch she had put in Clark’s jacket when he’d given it to her. She was still wearing it, and hoped he didn’t mind. After walking up to the front desk, she greeted the receptionist and produced two museum tickets. They showed their IDs and the man waved them in and toward the metal detectors.

A couple minutes later, Clark and Lana were alone inside one of the elevators making their way up to the third floor. They were enveloped in awkward silence, and Lana was internally freaking out about what he thought. She thought she’d be smug and confident, but even though she assured herself that this was a good idea and Clark would love it, her inability to read his expressions set her on edge. She knew that because of her parents she was starved for approval, but she’d always made sure to get it from herself. Nobody else was worth it, right? Especially not men. But…if anyone came close, it was Clark. She didn’t know when it had happened, but she’d become dependent on his friendship. Any form of positive reinforcement from him was like discovering an oasis, and right now she was in a desert. Words fell out of her mouth in a gush of anxiety.

“So, um, there’s this showing for the planetarium here in a little over an hour,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “I don’t know if you’re interested or not but it’s included in the tickets I got last night after you said you were coming since I figured there was a possibility you might want to go since you’ve always loved astronomy and might enjoy that with the rest of the science-y stuff in the museum. We don’t have to, though, if you don’t want to. I’ve already been here a couple times.”

Clark saw Lana wring her hands and pull his jacket closer around her. He was so enraptured with what he’d seen so far that he hadn’t noticed her expectant look until now. She’d obviously put a lot of thought into this in a short amount of time. Lana had wanted to surprise him with something she thought he’d like, but she was so worried about his reaction that she was freaking herself out. Clark could hear her heart beating harder than normal in her chest. She was fidgeting. Lana always had a lot of energy, but it was usually directed outward. This time it was like she was shrinking, taking up less space than she normally would.

He’d only seen her like this one other time. Seven years ago, she’d shown up at the Kent Farm one rainy night in July after walking about a mile and a half up the road. Clark and Jonathan had found her in their doorway just like this, asking if she could spend the night. There’d been a small get-together with her extended family that her father had thoroughly ruined with booze and screaming. She hadn’t told Clark the specifics of why she was there until months later, and he hadn’t pressed her during that time despite his worrying. He was worried now, too.

The elevator doors opened and he took her hand, leading her out and over to the nearest corner. Lana held a confused look on her face, but Clark spoke before she could voice any thought.

“That sounds awesome,” he said in a low voice, still holding her hand. “Thank you. This is so cool. I’ve been wanting to do something like this for ages but I just never got around to it. There’s not much ‘science-y stuff’ around Smallville and I’ve been preoccupied the last few months. If it won’t bore you seeing it again, I’d totally love to see the planetarium showing. It means a lot that you thought of it at all. You’re pretty damn great, Lana. Pardon the language.”

Lana hadn’t realized when it happened, but she was beaming. She was still anxious, but the tension was gone from her shoulders. Her voice came out with a soft chuckle. “Oh, no. I don’t think I can, Mister Kent. What kind of gentleman uses that kind of language in front of a lady?”

“My apologies, Miss Lang,” he said with a serious face. “You are absolutely right. I bring shame upon my name.”

Lana shook her head and pulled him along into the exhibit on the third floor, her hand still in his. “Come on, you dork.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave any comments and suggestions :)


	3. Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lana's day together comes to a close...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're revisiting this...I made some edits

Lana followed Clark around the exhibits on each floor, and for a while she had no problem guessing how he felt about anything he saw. He was like a little kid in a candy store, and stopped to look at every single object and sign on display. He loved the Spaceflight and Applications Satellites exhibits, but his obvious favorite was the exhibit outside of the planetarium dome on the top floor. There was an interactive map of the sky, where they could learn about the millions of celestial bodies that humanity has catalogued. Most people had walked by it with merely a glance, but Lana saw Clark immediately gravitate toward it and whisper to himself about how cool it was. She couldn’t stop smiling.

Clark pulled up a few of the more well-known stars, like Polaris, Betelgeuse, and Proxima Centauri, before selecting the Virgo constellation. He zoomed in on an area and eventually highlighted a star. Lana drew up next to him and leaned closer to the screen in interest. The star was small, a red dwarf with low luminosity and no planets around it. She looked up at Clark, curious as to what made that particular area so special, and was surprised at what she found. His face held his normal passive look, but his eyes held more emotion than she’d ever seen in them before. Even though Lana wasn’t good at identifying them, she always knew when something was wrong. He was holding something huge back, but she had no idea what it was.

Lana took his hand again and squeezed. “Clark?” she said softly. She watched him tap the screen twice to take it back to the home screen. She pulled him to face her fully. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Clark looked at her directly, and whatever she’d seen in his eyes a moment ago was gone. He gave her a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “Hmm? Nothing. I was just looking for something. Guess I didn’t remember the location correctly.”

Lana searched his face, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Just then, one of the museum’s staff gave an announcement that the planetarium showing was starting in ten minutes. Dropping the subject, Lana went with Clark to grab a spot inside the dome.

 

Clark was on a high. He couldn’t contain himself after they’d left museum. The show went over the theorized history of the universe, principles of cosmology and astronomy, and the speculations on the unknown. It was a surreal experience for Clark, having a very important insight into the unknown but for the most part still being as much in the dark as the rest of humanity. Yet, any feelings of melancholy were temporarily abated by the sheer spectacle of it all. He loved every second of the show, and had hugged Lana immediately after exiting the dome.

It was getting dark out by the time they left, but surprisingly warm for a night in early March. They’d picked up some sandwiches on the way back to Lana’s apartment, Clark paying like he promised. He figured he would have paid anyway since he owed her for the amazing time he’d had at S.T.A.R. Labs with her, even though that wouldn’t be anywhere near repaying her.

University Town was still buzzing with life when they’d gotten in, and Clark had seen lots of couples and groups of friends milling about on the big streets. Thinking back to college and high school, he realized he hadn’t really allowed himself to have those types of experiences and had isolated himself in favor of focusing on school and protecting his secret. He didn’t mind being alone, but after a while he decided that being alone too often wasn’t a good idea. He didn’t exactly fancy being lonely.

Clark would’ve hoped that he and Lana could be something more, but a little while after realizing his feelings for her, he’d decided to ignore them since he felt that Lana had never showed him any interest in that way. At first, it was annoying to watch her date other guys. The only thing that helped him through the bouts of envy was consciously thinking about her happiness (amid the consistent reminders from his mother), which mattered more to him than almost anything else. She alone had the right to choose what made her happy and who, and he’d still be her friend no matter what. Eventually, he’d made peace with it. Even though she’d never said so, he knew she loved him only as a friend. He counted himself lucky that she did. She didn’t get attached to people lightly, and the fact that she cared enough to stay in touch this long was everything to him. It didn’t matter that he was in love with her. It mattered that they were best friends, and nothing could separate them.

But along with the value of their friendship came guilt. Clark couldn’t help but feel awful every time he saw Lana because he knew he was keeping the most essential part of himself a secret. She’d been in his life longer than anyone he knew other than his parents, and she still didn’t know who he really was. He’d been close to telling her dozens of times, but every single instance was met with a crippling fear of rejection. She meant so much to him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it if their friendship ended over something so important. What if she couldn’t handle the shock? Would she even believe him?

Walking up the stairs and to her door, he made the decision. Seeing Lana after months of no contact was like getting struck by lightning. Then they’d had this perfect day, and now he couldn’t get over the guilt of keeping his secret. But that was going to change.

Right before they got to her door, Clark stopped her. Lana turned to him.

“Hey, do you…have access to the roof?” Clark asked slowly.

Lana looked at him with an amused look of confusion. “Yeah, why?”

“Come on.” He pulled her by the hand and led her up another few flights of stairs. The building wasn’t that tall, so they didn’t have to go too far.

“Slow down, will you?” Lana said, a little winded but keeping up with his pace. “Not all of us are Olympic athletes.”

They finally got to the steel door at the very top of the staircase, which was unlocked. Clark found that a bit odd, but didn’t question it. They stepped outside and were met with a gentle breeze and the low light of the city around them. The top of the building didn’t have much on it save for a small water tower and a few metal bars stacked in the middle of the expanse. Lana was still wearing his jacket, and pulled it around her before sitting on the metal beams and retrieving her sandwich from the bag she was holding. Clark remained standing a few feet away from her.

“I need to tell you something,” Clark said vaguely. He was freaking out, and had no idea how to proceed. This was looking more and more like a terrible idea. “Lana…I’ve had this secret for a really long time. But you’re my best friend and I don’t want to keep it from you anymore.”

“So don’t. Stop being weird and tell me.” Lana took a bite of her sandwich and chewed for a bit. “Wait, let me guess. You want to be a vegetarian?”

Her nonchalance short-circuited his brain. This was such a big deal to him, but she had no way of knowing that yet. He shook his head to clear his mind. “No –”

“You’re gay?”

“No. Lana –”

“You have a birthmark on your ass that looks like George Washington?”

“Lana, please!” blurted Clark, exasperated.

Lana had been making herself laugh while making fun of him, but regretted it immediately when she saw the look on his face. Whatever he had to say was eating at him. She wrapped her sandwich back up and put it down next to her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, swallowing. “It’s okay, you can tell me. I’m all ears.”

Clark took a deep breath, looking at her. It was now or never. “Remember in the show earlier, when the narrator was saying that we don’t know if there’s other life in the universe?”

Lana nodded. This was taking a turn she hadn’t expected.

“Well, the thing is…there is,” said Clark slowly. “Life. On other planets, I mean. I know because…I’m not from here. I’m from…out there.”

Clark pointed up at the sky, and Lana understood that he meant the stars. This was _definitely_ not how she thought this conversation would go.

“So you’re telling me,” she said slowly, “that you’re an alien?”

Clark nodded curtly, his eyes not leaving her face. To say Lana was stunned would be an understatement. Clark was not acting like himself, and what he was saying was completely ridiculous. She didn’t know what to think, so she answered without doing so.

“Clark, what’s going on?” she said, looking at him warily. “You’re usually better at jokes.”

“No, Lana, listen.” Clark’s eyes were steady but his hands weren’t. He held them together as the words came pouring out. “I wasn’t born here on Earth, okay? I came here in a spaceship when I was a baby. Mom and Dad found me in a cornfield outside of Smallville when I was around three years old. Not that long ago I found out that I came from a planet called Krypton – like the noble gas – but it was destroyed. My biological father sent me here to save my life. On top of all that, I can do things nobody else on this planet can do.”

The look on Lana's face told him all he needed to know. Her eyebrows knitted together, her jaw was rigid, but her eyes were unfocused. Clark knew that look. She was hurt and angry, and most of all she didn't believe him. _Of course_ she didn't. What he said was completely unbelievable.

So he had to make her believe.

Keeping eye contact with her, he gave her a pleading look. Lana stared back at him with an expression he couldn't recognize. Clark hopped up on his toes and then –

He wasn’t on the ground anymore.

 

Lana watched as her best friend rose into the air. He climbed to about three feet off the roof and stayed there, completely suspended in midair as if gravity didn’t exist for him. Lana’s jaw slackened and her eyes went wide as she stared at him. This couldn’t be happening. How could it be happening?

But it _was_ happening. She could see it with her own eyes. He was floating in midair right in front of her. He could… _fly_. She looked at his face again, and could see the conflict in it. Lana locked eyes with him from where she stood, and she felt it. All the emotions she’d had for Clark struck her in that moment. This was it. This was the one thing he’d been holding back, the part of him she’d never gotten to see. And he was showing it to her now. He’d given her all of him, and the realization of that was something she couldn’t put into words. Her head was swimming as she thought back to what he’d said. She’d known Clark for eleven years, but had never seen him get close to anyone. Besides her, of course, and this was probably why. If he was only telling her now, then he definitely hadn’t told anyone else. As much as she appreciated that, the thought of it hurt her. Clark _loved_ people. He would thrive having lots of friends and lots of different types of relationships. She knew that was something that would make him happy, but he’d never let himself have it. He’d made himself a loner on top of being an alien from a planet that didn’t even exist anymore.

Clark floated forward, descending steadily until his feet touched the ground again. He walked over and sat on the metal beam a few feet away from Lana, watching her watch him.

Lana couldn’t take her eyes off him as her mind raced, and they burned with fresh tears threatening to spill over.

“I am so sorry,” breathed Lana after what seemed like an eternity of silence.

Clark looked at her in tired confusion. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I didn’t really expect you to believe me at first. It’s pretty unbelievable.”

Lana closed the distance between them quickly and took his face in her hands. She brought her head down and touched her forehead to his. 

“I’m sorry you had to hold it in for so long. Looking at everyone else and knowing you were different, being afraid to say anything. Watching how people all over the world treat those that are different from them. Finding out your home’s gone…Clark, I’m so sorry.” The tears she’d been holding back finally fell from her eyes, staining her cheeks. Her voice came out barely above a whisper. “You must’ve felt so alone.”

“It’s okay. I had Mom and Dad,” Clark held her wrists lightly, pulling back a few inches to look Lana in the eyes. “And I had you.”

Lana stared back, watching how the low light of the city made his eyes a dark blue. They were magnetic, and they drew on every thought and feeling about Clark she’d ever had until her head swam with the pounding of her heart in her ears. Her breath caught, and she was dizzy with compulsion. Never the poster-child for self-control, she immediately gave in, and crashed her lips into his.

Lana felt him respond immediately, and her chest swelled knowing he was kissing her back. She felt lighter now. Gone were all the fleeting thoughts of him based in insecurity and denial. Any time there was a spark of attraction over the years, a flicker of love…she’d stamped it out. She’d assumed that Clark had only regarded her platonically, and if by some miracle he didn’t, she wasn’t good enough for him anyway so it would be better to just ignore it all. But as his hands pulled her closer to him, the other voice in her head came back. _Clark thinks you’re worth it,_ it said. It was true. He’d never given the impression that he thought anything less than the very best of her, and hell if she was ever going to prove him wrong.

Her hands were on the back of his neck and tangled in his hair, sliding her fingers through the thick, dark mass. His lips were softer than she’d expected, and she could feel them twitch up in the tiniest of smiles when she’d sighed into the kiss.

Lana didn’t know how long it took but eventually they broke apart, remaining only inches from each other. Her fingers were still moving slowly through his hair, and her breathing was ragged. Clark leaned back in for two quick kisses, and she welcomed him, giggling. Then she leaned away to look at his face.

Clark wore a look of wonder, and her heart swelled. “Wow,” she whispered through kiss-swollen lips. “Who knew aliens would be such good kissers, huh?”

Clark laughed. His chest was buzzing and fluttering after kissing her, and he still couldn’t believe it. He didn’t trust himself to speak, but did it anyway. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“’Not too bad?’ Come on, I’m fantastic.”

“No comment. I already spend enough time inflating your ego.”

“So it wouldn’t be too much trouble to keep doing it, now would it?” Lana retorted with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Clark mimicked her expression, exaggerating heavily. It was too cute to resist kissing him again, so she did – a long one for the moment and a quick one for the road. “Okay, we should eat. Sandwiches are getting cold.”

 

They ate mostly in silence, sitting so closely together that practically Lana’s whole left side was touching Clark’s right.

“So…this is heavy, Doc. You’re an alien and you can fly. The world’s upside down and we just made out. I’m still kind of internally freaking out. That’s the proper response, right?”

Clark finished the last bite of his sandwich, nodding. “Yeah, I’d say so. I’ve wanted to tell you – and kiss you – for quite a while now. Just didn’t know how to go about it.”

“Uh-huh. The alien part or the kissing part?”

“Yes.”

“Naturally,” she chortled. “I totally understand.”

“Lana, I don’t want to burden you with too much right now, but…there is more.”

“You mean even more than this bombshell? Well, I might have a heart attack but lay it on me.”

Clark slowly opened his jacket, still on Lana. He retrieved a small black object from the inner pocket, and walked to stop a few feet away from her.

“Is that a lump of coal?” Lana asked incredulously. “Why do you have a lump of coal in your pocket?”

“It’s graphite, specifically. Watch closely.” Clark tossed the coal into the air in front of him, and then ran to catch it a couple of yards away. He did this a few times, moving so fast that he was a merely a dark red blur to Lana’s eyes. Lana stared.

“Okay…so you’re fast. Like, really fast,” she said, eyes unfocused. “Holy shit you’re fast.”

“Uh, yeah,” Clark smiled nervously. He sat down next to her again. “And here’s why I keep lumps of graphite in my pocket. Please don’t freak out.”

Clark held the mineral in his outstretched palm. Focusing, he blasted two thin beams of extreme heat from his eyes right into the middle of the lump. Lana screamed, scooting back away from him. He’d expected it, but it still made him feel uneasy. When he felt it was hot enough, he closed his hand around the lump and squeezed hard. Steam hissed from his fist as the object shrunk, and eventually he opened his hand back up again. He blew onto the stone in his hand, cooling it and blowing away excess carbon. Once his hand and the air around them was sufficiently cool, Clark reached out to Lana. She had a wild look in her eyes and wore a conflicted expression, but she didn’t shy away from him this time. She looked at the object in his hand, and her eyes grew even wider.

“Is – is that...” she began, her eyebrows creasing.

“A diamond, yeah,” said Clark sheepishly, slipping it into his pocket. “It’s how I’ve been getting money in a pinch on my trips. I figured this is similar to what the manufacturers do, except I can do it without any equipment.”

“No kidding,” she nodded, her wits slowly coming back to her. She looked at him with a small smile. “That’s really smart, actually.”

“Thanks.”

“You shoot lasers from your eyes.”

“That’s…an oversimplification.”

“You’re really strong.”

“That’s…spot on.”

Lana stared out into space. Eventually she spoke again. “Is that everything, or do you have more crazy-awesome powers to show me?”

Clark smiled. All in all, Lana was taking this pretty well. Some time for adjustment was to be expected, but she seemed to want it all in stride. She scooted back toward him and leaned against his side.

“Well, all my senses are enhanced. My tactile, olfactory, and gustatory senses are really acute, and I can see things that are very small or very far away. I can hear low and high pitched frequencies that you wouldn’t hear, at lower volumes than the human brain can register. I can hear things much farther out, too. It’s pretty crazy.” Clark paused, thinking. “That’s all my powers. No, wait. I can see through things too, unless it’s covered by something super dense, like lead.”

Lana had been chuckling, simultaneously putting Clark at ease and on edge. “I can’t believe you just used the fancy names for touch, smell and taste, you absolute _nerd_ ,” she said. Lana shook her head in a surprised expression, but her smile didn’t fade. “Wait, you can see through things? That’s so cool! I’d have a lot of fun with that power.”

Lana eyes gave Clark’s body a once over quite luridly, and when they traveled back up to his face she gave him a smirk that was downright predatory. But then the expression disappeared a second later under a look of curiosity as she spoke again. “You could be a super spy. Imagine all the weird shit you would find out.”

Clark chuckled. “Nah. I hardly ever eavesdrop. I don’t wanna invade anyone’s privacy.”

Lana pursed her lips and gave him a look. “Really…have you no concept of life and how to live it? You’re literally choosing to ignore all the juicy details around you!”

Clark just looked back at her patiently. “Ugh, fine,” she responded, looking at him fondly. “Be boring and morally upstanding.”

“Of course. It’s what makes up most of my charm.”

Lana rolled her eyes. “I mean...that's not totally inaccurate. Do me a favor and stand all the way over there, by the edge of the building. I want to see if you can hear this.”

Clark indulged her, and soon they were looking at each other from several yards away. It was pretty dark out now, so Lana could only see his silhouette while knowing Clark could probably see her clearly. She looked at where his face should be and whispered, “Lana Lang is still cooler than Clark Kent.”

She heard him laugh, which automatically put a grin on her face. She continued. “Tomatoes are disgusting.”

“Not true!” he called. Ever since she’d told him that she couldn’t stand the taste of tomatoes when they were fourteen, it had been a sort of inside joke with them. If she ever got too out of hand, he’d threaten her with tomatoes.

“Clark Kent has a great ass,” Lana whispered this time. Clark gave thanks in response. “Lana Lang has a better ass, though.”

He laughed again, and suddenly he was standing a few feet away from her again. It startled her, but she wasn’t really afraid. “Debatable,” he said.

Lana looked at him and smiled, taking him in. This was all a lot to handle, and she knew she wasn’t fully comfortable with it yet. But she also knew now that this was how Clark always had been. Her finding out now didn’t change who he was or how either of them felt about each other (she was still internally screaming in triumph at their kiss). So Lana relaxed as best as she could and found solace in knowing that one day soon it would all be old news to her. She waved him over. “Kiss me again?”

Clark couldn’t contain his smile or enthusiasm to oblige, closing the distance between them in two steps. After a long, slow and intense kiss, Lana pulled back, still on her tip toes.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, too, you know,” she murmured.

The two of them went back inside and made their way down to Lana’s apartment.


	4. Krypton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about some Kryptonian history?

Lana had much to do the next day, so Clark decided to give her space to concentrate. His first stop of the day was “The Fortress” as Kelex called it. He had Kelex take on an android form this time, and found that he preferred it this way. At fifty times the normal speed, Clark learned about the history of Krypton as documented in the archives. He was surprised to find that Kryptonians did not seem all that different than humans. In some instances, he might’ve assumed he was listening to Earth’s history if he hadn’t been aware he was studying Krypton’s.

 _Millions of cycles ago_ (as their years were called on Krypton, translated to English) _, eleven “tribes” lived apart from one another. Krypton was a small planet and most of its surface was either water or small continents made of crystal, so these tribes lived on the small amounts of habitable land composed of jungle and volcanic environments. Nobody knew how they’d come to be separated into their own communities, only that they had been. In desperation brought about by the planet’s harsh conditions and the lack of habitable land, the tribes eventually came together for survival through collaboration. This laid the groundwork for planetary unification and the development of a common culture._

_Together, the tribes of Krypton learned to take advantage of their environment’s resources and mine the crystals as they did the metals of their planet. Study of both metal and crystal was the key to technological advancement, and over millions of cycles they’d learned to build complex cities and modes of transportation as well as adapt to and reform the environments around them. Kryptonians made their planet’s atmosphere more stable, learned how to establish long-lasting habitations on crystal continents, and create tools that seamlessly blended crystal and metal together. The last breakthrough catalyzed the process for altering the planet’s environments themselves. As a result of improving the extreme conditions of many parts of the planet, the population climbed from a few thousand at the onset of unification to over two billion Kryptonians by the end of the thousand-cycle period that would come to be known as the “Age of Crystals.”_

_After using their knowledge of crystal and metal to make Krypton more habitable, Kryptonians had come to explore and reach beyond the confines of their own planet. Curiosity led to interstellar travel in the hopes of gaining knowledge and establishing potentially symbiotic relationships with other worlds. Some expressed the notion of interplanetary colonization, but this proved particularly difficult for the few who attempted it. Many of the races that Kryptonians came across were just as intelligent and technologically advanced as they were, and sometimes the planets’ environments were less than ideal._

_At first, the expeditions went as planned and they were able to associate with beings from over two dozen galaxies. As time went on, however, many of the civilizations they came across did not take kindly to their invitations. Most Kryptonian envoys only traveled to just outside a planet’s orbit, but many saw their attempts at communication as invasion (though in the case of potential Kryptonian colonizers they were right), and so attacked without mercy. This trend grew steadily for over fifty cycles, and Kryptonians grew more and more prejudiced and xenophobic as a result._

_As exploration and collusions with the few benevolent species they came across (particularly Coluans and Rannians) increased, so did the conflict incited by those who did not want foreigners on their planet_. _This, paired with the sudden onset of a worldwide famine brought about by a Krolotean virus most likely brought back from an expedition, created the perfect storm for civil war. Starvation and warfare killed almost a third of Krypton’s entire population, and those who were on the side of tolerance (about a quarter of those left) were driven off the planet and into exile. Most settled on a nearby planet called Daxam and mingled with the inhabitants there, who they’d discovered previously were a welcoming civilization and very similar in genetic makeup to Kryptonians. Eventually, Daxamites who were descendants of Kryptonians evolved to differ from their ancestors through environmental adaptation and inter-species copulation. Those who remained on Krypton saw the formation of the High Council, which established a formal unified government that presided over all of Krypton. Previously, all major cities, though working very closely in tandem with one another in many efforts, had mainly governed themselves while respecting the borders and boundaries of their neighbors. The High Council was established by the leaders of all major cities in an effort to unify the planet under common law and prevent as large a cultural divide as they had seen cause a civil war. The implementation of this drastic change was spearheaded with particular vehemence by the leaders of Kandor and Argo City._

 _With its population now down to less than a billion people, Krypton saw a sharp decline in exploration and instead focused on using science and technology to solve its own problems and prevent new ones. The foremost method was through genetic engineering as Kryptonians made breakthroughs in physiology, medicine, and gene editing. After rigorous testing and perfection of the discipline, the High Council decreed a worldwide inoculation, where all Kryptonian citizens would undergo genetic alteration to protect them from disease, injury, and even famine (as was the root cause of the new advancements in the first place). In this particular case, Kryptonians had altered their genetic makeup to allow their cells to absorb radiation as a form of sustenance. Moderate amounts of radiation absorbed as sunlight from their red star, Rao (since sunlight was always in abundance), would serve as the energy needed to catalyze any and all biological processes that sustained them. Due to a red star’s relatively low amount of energy filtered through Krypton’s atmosphere, it wouldn’t be enough to live on indefinitely. However, it did greatly reduce the demand for food, effectively eliminating the possibility of another great famine. This also created the gene for lighter skin, as it helped to absorb and store energy instead of absorbing it and letting it dissipate over time._ (Clark found this particular lesson fascinating as well as hilarious, as it made him realize he was biologically similar to a plant)

_Kryptonians altered their own genes for aesthetics as well. Anything deemed a deformity or cause of disability was phased out, though most of the extensively diverse Kryptonian genome was allowed to remain. Krypton’s populace was an amalgamation of various heights, eye and hair colors, body types, hair types and more. After the High Council’s decree, the average life expectancy grew considerably, injecting a larger age gap into the population as well and ushering Krypton into a golden age._

_Science, aesthetics, and indulgence were the characteristic ideals of Krypton’s golden age. The ethics concerning these ideals were only determined by their proposed usefulness and capacity to improve Kryptonian life (as long as they did not clash with Krypton’s isolationist policies). As a result, experimentation was rampant in all facets of life. New materials were invented, polyamory became the norm, and music and architecture were at the forefront of society. Monumental structures were built in even bigger cities and Kandor, Krypton’s capital, doubled in size. Further scientific advancement led to the discovery of the Phantom Zone, a barren dimension outside of time. The potential applications of this dimension intrigued the Council, but no uses were set to be proposed until extensive studies had been conducted._

_Unfortunately, with prosperity on Krypton came the seeds of paranoia. As time went on, the High Council became increasingly wary of potential threats to Kryptonian peace. The bulk of the Council’s policies and decrees during this time were concerning military expansion, the last of which being the decree for mandatory military training. Following the order, children were required to learn the basics for military enlistment in tandem with their compulsory studies of scientific disciplines. This way of life persisted until Krypton’s destruction._

Clark continued to listen to Kelex read from the archives, and grew more enraptured as the remaining history grew more personal to him.

_Fifty-three cycles before Krypton exploded, incessant weapons testing deep in the Lurvan continent resulted in a powerful explosion that triggered a massive seismic event. Unbeknownst to the general population and ignored by the High Council, this single occurrence catalyzed the destruction of Krypton._

_Thirty-five cycles later, it was discovered by renowned scientists and brothers Jor-El and Zor-El that the tectonic plates were shifting out of alignment, and the planet’s core was unstable. When they presented their findings to the High Council, however, their claims were dismissed as an overreaction to a lack of evidence. Jor-El had suggested a worldwide evacuation, but pride and xenophobia rejected that proposal. The only major figure with significant influence on Krypton who believed them was Dru-Zod, the leader of Krypton’s military forces and honorary Council member. Yet at the time, he was increasingly being regarded as a renegade who had proposed initiatives against the High Council’s ideals. Zod advocated for interplanetary scouting missions to gather intelligence on prospective threats. The Council did not allow this, reasoning that it could be construed as an act of war on other planets. If they were to go to war, they would rather be the defenders than the instigators. Zod had also proposed a cloning program, intended to create expendable troops instead of risking natural-born Kryptonian lives. This was vehemently rejected as well, since clones were considered an abomination on Krypton. Common values dictated that people were born, not made, and therefore clones were merely a grotesque shadow of the real thing._

_After cycles of further study and experimentation, Jor-El, Zor-El, and Dru-Zod returned to the Council amid a substantial increase in seismic activity across the planet. The Council ignored them again, much to ire of Zod. It was then that Zod began to set his plans for a coup in motion, gathering his support in secret. Jor-El, never condoning the isolationist rhetoric of the Council, held several clandestine meetings with a Coluan, Vril Dox, and a Rannian, Sardath, in order to devise a way to stabilize the planet’s core and save Krypton. He had hoped he could join Kryptonian expertise regarding their crystals with Colu’s perfected shrinking technology and Rann’s Zeta Beam technology to minimize the damage or at least form a short-notice evacuation plan. However, as skirmishes instigated by Zod’s forces grew more frequent and caused ample collateral damage, Vril withdrew from the partnership after suffering several injuries. Sardath remained, working with Jor-El to try and perfect material teletransportation using technology from both Rann and Krypton._

_In time, the majority of Krypton’s formal armed forces had come to side with Zod, but many refused to stand with him in the event of a coup. Most did not condone the idea of intentionally fighting their own people in open rebellion, even if they disagreed with the High Council’s rule. As a result, when Zod led his troops to storm the High Council’s citadel on Kandor, half of Krypton’s army did not fight at all. Zod led 450,000 soldiers to overthrow the High Council, but could not stand against the million soldiers ordered to protect the citadel. After two days, the rebellion was put down and the High Council commanded a ruthless hunt to weed out insurgents and those who shared rebellious views whether they had fought or not. This led to the imprisonment of thousands of Kryptonian citizens and the discovery of people smuggled in from other planets. Many were criminals, but some were not. The High Council’s radicalism spurred the imprisonment of all foreigners, with a choice few getting particularly brutal treatment. It was then that the Council decided to use the Phantom Zone as a prison. After cycles of study (the several most recent conducted by Jor-El), seven prisoners were sent to the Phantom Zone in a widely public demonstration. The prisoners were Dru-Zod of Kandor, Faora Hu-Ul of Kandor, Jax-Ur of Rao City, Dev-Em of Daxam, Dal’en of Mars, Sy’rann of Mars, and Kragg Gorn Kee of Tamaran. Even though the disorder and strife of rebellion had been quashed, Krypton would never see another day of peace._

_Half a cycle before Krypton’s destruction, amidst the growing chaos and natural disasters, the planet was invaded by a being known as the Collector of Worlds in an attack that lasted less than a day. Not much was known about this being, but it was described as a disfigured cyborg with the visage of a Coluan male and three glowing electrodes on its head. It controlled thousands of mechanized drones remotely, using them to access all of Krypton’s archive data in the Fortress of Argo City. Perplexingly, the Collector of Worlds did not attack the Kryptonian people outright, and only killed Kryptonian troops when directly opposed. His last act before withdrawing from the planet was to shrink and steal the entire city of Kandor, leaving only an enormous crater in its place. It would stay that way until Krypton’s destruction, and those close enough to witness it gave the Coluan cyborg its epithet. Some also called him the Terror of Kandor, but many Kryptonians opted for a different moniker altogether. They called him Brainiac._

Clark’s heart was racing as he listened, knowing he was almost finished with Krypton’s history. Kelex had informed him that Jor-El created the artificial intelligence around the time he had begun studying the Phantom Zone, and so everything that had occurred from Jor-El and Zor-El’s discovery of Krypton’s unstable core onward was told from personal memory. Clark saw that his father was an important figure on Krypton, and was oddly proud despite not really knowing him. He continued to the end.

_Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van, a prominent engineer, realized that as the High Council grew more radical, the less likely they would cooperate with a plan for Krypton’s salvation. They had borne a son just before Brainiac’s attack on Krypton, and the two of them were anxious for their child’s safety more than ever. Lara, along with Jor-El, sought out Zor-El and his wife Alura In-Ze for their help in devising a plan to escape Krypton with their children. Zor and Alura, having a daughter of their own named Kara, agreed. Lara, Zor and Kara together designed and built the children’s pods first, while Jor and Alura programmed the pods’ capabilities and extensions separately. Despite the near daily dose of seismic activity from the planet, the High Council remained stubborn and the five of them had to work in secret. Because of this, construction took much longer than expected and the pods were not finished by the time Krypton saw its last day._

Clark knew what happened next. He’d stopped listening and quietly soaking up the information, opting instead to question Kelex directly.

“Kelex…did anyone else make it off Krypton?” His voice was much softer than usual.

“I have no record of any other departures from the planet that day, by any of the normal means.”

In his studies, he’d learned that most Kryptonians traveled long distances one of two ways: by propulsion of a vehicle and by interdimensional travel via the Phantom Zone, though the Council’s decrees made it so only military vehicles had the long distance capabilities to travel off-world. Rannians, as few people like Jor-El knew, had developed something called a Zeta Beam, which allowed instantaneous transport with a maximum range of several light-years. The only drawback was that there needed to be a straight path available to one’s destination, or the effects could be disastrous. While on Krypton, Sardath and Jor-El had worked to rectify this problem but had not fully achieved success by the time Krypton exploded. They’d only been able to solve the issue for short-range transport, and not the range that the original design allowed. Unfortunately, Sardath had departed from Krypton a quarter cycle before its destruction when recalled to assist in the defense of his home against invaders from a planet called Thanagar.

Clark nodded sadly in response to Kelex. He’d been expecting that answer, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. In fact, it hurt more, because now he’d had information about his family. His mother and father had been scientists, as were his aunt and uncle. He’d had an aunt and uncle. He’d had an older cousin, too. But now all of them were gone.

His heart and mind were conflicted. In reality, he’d had parents – Jonathan and Martha Kent. He loved them both with all of his heart and wouldn’t have traded them for anything. But…now he missed his biological parents. A glimpse into the family he could have had was almost too much to handle. So far, he didn’t even know what any of them looked like except for his father. He wanted to go back in time and watch them, see them as they were – as they lived – on the planet they’d called home. Guilt crept in, infecting sadness, as if he were being ungrateful for Jonathan and Martha taking him in and loving him like any parent would. He didn’t want to feel like they weren’t enough. He didn’t want to feel like he was asking for more than they could ever give him, because they’d given him everything.

“Why couldn’t they come with me?” Clark asked in a dead voice.

“Because of the exponential increase in seismic activity in a short amount of time,” said Kelex, “Jor-El could not accurately predict when Krypton would explode. He had worked to save all of Krypton first, but as he and Lara realized the futility of that endeavor, they began the work to save their family instead. They worked as quickly as they could, but even your pod was not entirely completed by the time it needed to be used.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No. Jor-El believed that it was imperative you knew about Krypton and all it had to offer. He created the small crystal and its vessel, meant to be joined to make this Fortress, as you well know by now, while Lara and Kara designed and built the long-range propulsion systems for your pod. Jor-El retrofitted his Zeta teleporter to your pod to assist with travel, deeming a phantom drive too dangerous. However, Kara still built one into your pod for emergencies. Despite all this, your pod still lacked the cloaking capabilities originally intended.”

Clark wiped his eyes roughly, rising from his seat on the floor and forcing himself to get a handle on his emotions. Lana expected him later, and he didn’t want to be holding on to any of that negativity when he saw her. There was one last thing he needed, though.

“My mother, Lara…is there anything from her, like a message or something? Like there was from my dad?”

“I have no prerecorded messages from Lara. Jor built me a cycle before Krypton’s destruction and forbade me to capture any visual or auditory recordings of your family to maintain complete secrecy from the Council. However, there is one image I have stored from Jor’s first holographic test scan. Would you like to see it?”

Clark stayed rooted to the spot and nodded apprehensively. “Please.”

A large hologram was projected upwards from the console, showing a vivid image that was crystal clear. Five people stood in a large circular room that was brightly lit, awash in red and gold light. They all were in different positions and facing different ways, but they were all wearing similar garments. Each of them wore a colored bodysuit under a white robe with the same symbol on Clark’s ship. He wondered if it was something that signified Krypton or if it was something more personal. Clark noticed his father immediately, facing sideways and in the middle of talking to a woman a foot away. Both her hair and eyes were brown, and she had an angular face with high cheekbones. Her expression was one of fond exasperation, as if she’d heard whatever he was saying a thousand times but didn’t have the heart to stop him from telling it again. The right side of the image held three other people, a bit further away. Another woman about the same age as the first was caught walking across the room to the other two on the right. She had short brown hair that seemed to Clark like it would bounce. A second man stood arm in arm with the last person in the picture, a young woman with long, wavy blonde hair. The man looked like Clark’s father, but was taller and slimmer. He had his head bent down slightly, showing a small bald spot in the middle of black hair. The woman at his side, who didn’t look more than seventeen or eighteen earth years old, was looking up at the man with an animated expression. It looked like they’d been in the middle of an interesting discussion.

Clark stared in wonder at the five people in the hologram. This was his family, in a normal moment on Krypton. He looked at each face and memorized it, matching their names with the information he had from left to right. Lara, Jor, Alura, Zor, and Kara. He stared at his cousin, realizing that he was probably older now than she’d ever gotten to be.

Clark blinked, his eyes burning wet again before he could stop it. He took a long look at the whole image again, then finally turned away. “Thanks, Kelex,” he said quietly.

“You are welcome, Kal.”

 

Kelex walked over to the console and began running security and diagnostic scans of the Fortress and the planet. Clark stood, mesmerized at how much Kelex moved like a person. If he was being honest, Clark had actually regarded Kelex as a person since meeting him and was still getting used to the cognitive dissonance of knowing he was an A.I.

“Hey, Kelex. Is there an easier way I can get back here? I’ve been flying here all the way from the Midwest.”

Kelex didn’t look up from the console, but responded amiably. “You could use the Zeta teleporter from your pod. This is what it looks like.”

Another hologram was projected over the console, showing a small cube-like device. Kelex worked the console again, which caused a crystal to form inside the matter manipulation chamber. A small flying bot (which Kelex sometimes used to assist him when in android form) retrieved it and gave it to Clark. It glowed faintly.

“That crystal is directly connected to the Fortress’s location,” said Kelex. “Think of it as a homing beacon. Attach it to the Zeta teleporter, and it will bring you to this console. Given the size of this planet, you can beam a maximum of one thousand kilograms from anywhere on Earth to the Fortress.”

“Wow, thanks,” said Clark. “This’ll definitely come in handy.”

 

***********************************

General Zod stood on the bridge of his warship, back straight and hands behind his back. At his sides, as always, were Jax and Faora, which gave him the mild comfort of familiarity amidst his brooding. His encounter with the being who’d freed him kept replaying in his head, unnerving him in a way he was not used to. He had no way of knowing what it truly was, but he knew his escape obviously came with a catch. Nobody with power did anything for free. So when his emancipator came to collect, he would have to be ready. Unfortunately, it would be a considerable challenge to plan for someone about whom he knew almost nothing. The only information he had to go on was that he’d met a cyborg whose organic parts looked Coluan and vaguely male. Coluans were a fairly intelligent as a species, even more so than Kryptonians. On the whole, they were a benevolent civilization, but it would be foolish to make an assumption on an individual from the whole. This unknown Coluan had known that Zod and the six other prisoners were imprisoned in the Phantom Zone, and had the technology to break them out. He could easily put them back there if Zod was not careful.

Zod had used the device to transport his warship out of the Phantom Zone immediately after the Coluan’s departure to make sure it did what it was supposed to do. It did, but then it melted like the one the Coluan had used to free him, much to Zod’s annoyance. Only after finding himself in the deep darkness of space surrounded by the distant light of stars did he free Faora and Jax. Zod left the others as they had been, since he did not trust them and felt it more prudent to cogitate before acting. He knew who they were thanks to the Council’s insistence on formality during the very public event of their imprisonment, so Zod assessed the threat levels from a distance.

Of the four different species present on the ship, Martians were the most dangerous. They had a wide range of physical and mental abilities and were one of the most formidable races Kryptonians had ever encountered. The only reason the High Council had even the slightest chance of imprisoning them was because of the chaos of battle and the fact that practically half of Kandor had been on fire at the time. To say that the Martian fear of fire was debilitating would be a massive understatement. They basically had no control over their powers when in a panic, so Zod figured he had a way to deal with them if need be. He needn’t have worried in the Phantom Zone since their powers do not work in that plane due to the lack of a physical body. Now that they were out, however, he was more than wary. Zod knew, as Faora needlessly reminded him when he freed her, that once the Martians realize their powers were back, they would be practically unstoppable if he didn’t act quickly. As such, the only thing realistically keeping them on this ship was the fact that they could not live in the vacuum of space.

He decided the Tamaranean would be difficult to deal with as well, given his superior strength and durability. It was common knowledge that Tamaranean physiology allowed for the absorption of ultraviolet radiation and subsequent conversion into usable energy. The discovery of this knowledge was actually the inspiration for Kryptonian genetic engineering in the wake of the Great Famine almost four hundred cycles ago. At least that’s how long it had been when Zod was imprisoned. He had no idea how much time had passed since then.

The Daxamite would be less of a threat than any Kryptonian would have been, so Zod didn’t worry much about him. What did worry Zod was the thought of that Coluan’s plan. He’d wanted them all freed, but he was not here to give and enforce any further orders and Zod had no use for the other prisoners. A short conversation with Jax and Faora eased his mind, as he had always valued their counsel despite being unequivocally in command – especially Faora’s. The three of them would take the necessary precautions to protect themselves, and would free the others if they proved non-hostile.

Zod looked out of the large window at the far end of the bridge. It was made of transparent crystal, durable and capable of filtering out most radiation. A distant star came into view. Zod’s face retained its composure, but a deep sadness welled up within him at the sight of the star’s red light.

 _< The systems, Faora?> _asked Zod after a moment _._

 _< Standard propulsion and communication systems are online, but not at full capacity,> _said Faora _. <We are at less than half power, and have only our basic weaponry available. No cloaking capabilities either.>_

Zod gave his second-in-command an absentminded nod. All in all, it was better than expected. His ship had been damaged during the main fighting of the rebellion, and its phantom drive was destroyed by the Council. A prudent measure on their part, since one obviously could not imprison someone in the Phantom Zone with a device that made it possible to enter and exit the Phantom Zone as one pleases. Faora held her usual hard expression, as if remembering the same thing. Zod grimaced, knowing it would take that much longer to get to Earth.


	5. I'm So Proud of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That word that starts with "S" and ends it "mut"

For the next month, Clark spent all of his time either at the Fortress, at home, or at Lana’s apartment. When he was at home, Clark took up all the chores and fixed anything and everything around the farm. He fixed the barn doors so that they wouldn’t creak, the cracks in the ceiling in the kitchen, the leaky faucet in the bathtub, and the fence around the chicken coop in the first week back, surprising his mom with his level of productivity. He’d even remodeled his old loft in the barn. The sale of the house to the Lana’s extended family would take a little to be finalized, but he figured he could get the house and farm in tip-top shape long before then. Little by little, he’d helped Martha start sorting the things they’d take with them from the things they wouldn’t.

Clark found he had so much energy lately, finally feeling like his life was moving in a forward direction with purpose. He was learning more than he ever thought possible at the Fortress and was slowly forming a plan to begin helping people on a larger scale. He’d deepened his friendship with Lana (they hadn’t really taken the time to label anything, but the dynamic had certainly changed), and overall he felt lighter. Clark eventually told his mother about the Fortress and learning of his home planet, spurring a long conversation that included his future plans regarding his powers and the recent news about Lana, much to Martha’s delight. She supported him as always, but was worried about the rapidly widening scope of her son’s life.

At the Fortress, Clark made sure to learn the Kryptonian language, as well as many of Earth’s languages that he had not already learned. Kelex had the ability to access any and all electronic data on Earth, and so made it possible for Clark to learn almost anything. Eventually, after learning sixteen more languages in a month, he’d decided that that was a good place to stop. He could speak English, Spanish, Mandarin, Hindi, Arabic, Portuguese, German, Urdu, Japanese, Farsi, Italian, Cantonese, Bengali, Russian, Punjabi, Korean, French, Yoruba, and now Kryptonian. Kelex served as decent conversational practice. Clark learned some sign languages as well. When traveling, he’d come across several people who were deaf or hard of hearing. Even though in the moment he could “Charades” his way through communication, he thought it would be better to communicate through a standardized language if he came across someone who could sign.

Though he could do it quickly, Clark found learning languages to be rather difficult. He struggled with sign languages particularly, since the movements came with postures and expressions that denoted specific connotations. If he was at all representative of Kryptonian intelligence and ability, then they hadn’t been all that more advanced than humans in terms of capacity. According to Kelex, it was more likely that Krypton was so advanced because of millions of cycles of technological achievements, not because they were naturally more intelligent. Clark considered himself extremely lucky he had powers and an artificial intelligence at his disposal. Otherwise it would have taken him years to be proficient in a language it had actually only taken two days to learn.

Moving on to further his training, he and Kelex created a testing center for his powers that doubled as a small obstacle course designed to push his limits and foster the mastery of his powers. The hardest part for him was getting over the tendency to hold back, especially when the challenges became much more difficult. Sometimes he’d have to carry several thousand tons or move through manipulated gravity, which required much more strength and balance than he’d normally have to use. Clark discovered that he could actually get tired if driven far enough. He’d done a test on his heat vision and blasted a large piece of crystal as forcefully as he could for as long as he could. After about three full minutes, he’d actually started to feel groggy and had needed to take a breather. Most recently, he’d tested his flight stamina in a scenario where he’d have to stay above ground for hours while flying against the force of Earth’s gravity multiplied by fifty. The ground was electrified to give him a little extra motivation, and after about four hours Clark found out how much it hurt to be electrocuted. Clark took a mental note of that, rationalizing that even though he was extraordinarily durable, his body so far still obeyed the laws of physics on some level.

The exercises that Kelex set up were all in the realm of potential change in his physical environment. Clark was grateful for the practice of anticipating variables in these types of situations, but he knew they weren’t taking into account the human element. He would need to get that training and experience firsthand. It was important to him that he could help save and improve individual lives in conjunction with trying to change things on a larger scale. Things like that took time, and if global change did happen it would be slow. Many people would still suffer in the meantime, so being on the ground looking out for them was imperative.

Still, Clark was conflicted over this decision. In order to make a lasting impact, he’d have no choice but to fully come out to the world. Doubt crept into his thoughts more and more at the idea. He wasn’t human, anyway. Did he really have a right to try and single-handedly change things for them, even if it was for the better? Was it even possible? Earth had been his home for as long as he could remember, and he felt like its problems were his. If he could do something to make the world a better place, then why shouldn’t he? But…how many would accept him as a foreigner with so much power? Benevolent intentions were all well and good, but what if nobody felt safe because they thought they were being manipulated by an alien overlord?

Clark’s mind was spinning with all these thoughts and worries as he’d finished up his training for the day. Deciding to talk with the two most important women in his life for guidance, he shut off most of the Fortress’s systems and had Kelex do routine diagnostic scans before grabbing the Zeta teleporter.

He’d used it for the first time almost a month ago, teleporting himself and his ship back to the Fortress. Clark had tinkered with it using Kelex as a guide, learning the physics and mechanics of the device. Its travel range was directly proportional to its charge and inversely proportional to its mass range. Clark figured that on his journey to Earth from Krypton, it could beam a maximum distance of almost two light-years in empty space. Apparently this was short-range compared to Rann’s normal teleportation capabilities. The main drawback was that the power source (a radioactive metal about which even Kelex knew next to nothing and definitely not from Earth) emitted energy extremely slowly, which meant that the device needed to charge up again before enough energy was available to be used for long distance teleportation. Luckily for Clark, he did not need to travel very long distances. Even if he’d wanted to go to the other side of the planet, he would only need to wait about fifteen and a half seconds to use the teleporter again. Unfortunately, another problem arose. Despite Jor-El and Sardath having fixed the need for empty space when Zeta-beaming, there still needed to be a point of focus in order to direct the beam. Otherwise, it would just teleport the length of its available range in the direction of least resistance. Clark figured this was why Kelex had given him the “homing crystal” earlier. Eventually, they’d have to figure out how to rectify that problem.

Clark put the device in his pocket, and flew out of the Fortress thinking about Lana. She had started to get used to his powers, and was now comfortable enough to have him use them around her while they were alone. She’d even asked for him to heat up leftover food with his heat vision last week, although it took a while to get there. His strength, his x-ray vision, and his ability to fly were the easiest for her to digest, but early on Lana had specifically asked him not to use his super-speed or heat vision without warning her first. Clark knew it was a lot to handle, so he made sure he did whatever she needed him to so she could feel comfortable.

It was a stark change, considering they had now seen each other more times in the past few weeks than they had in the two years prior to that. If Clark was being honest with himself, he was a little worried that they might be moving too fast all of a sudden (even if his mother would argue they had been moving too slowly for years). Lana seemed to be going along with it just fine, so Clark wasn’t going to complain.

Clark was cruising at about Mach 2 before slowing down to half the speed of sound to check his vibrating phone. It was a text from the woman he’d just been thinking about.

_OFFICIALLY ON SPRING BREAK!!! Come over?_

He decided he would. After texting his mom that he’d be in Central City, Clark told Lana he was on his way and wondered if Chloe was home with her.

Clark had gotten on with Chloe as well, since they’d spent some time together in the apartment outside of Lana’s busy schedule. Chloe attended the university, but was an undergrad and had an easy schedule that semester. Most of the time the two of them cleaned the apartment (at Clark’s insistence to help out while he was around) or played games together. Chloe was a Computer Science major who loved video games, and so got Clark to play with her and Lana if she was around. He was actually pretty good at them, but didn’t enjoy them as much as board or card games. On game nights, the three of them would go head-to-head in whatever multiplayer video game Chloe and Lana agreed on, and then afterward Clark would teach the two of them a card game he’d learned on his trips. Chloe had gotten used to having him around since their first game night, but he’d only actually dropped by twice a week and usually stuck to weekends. Clark liked Chloe, but he had to admit he hoped she wasn’t home.

*******************

Lana was finally free – at least for the next week or so. The first thought she’d had when coming home from her group lab session was to sleep for a few years. Her last semester was half over, and senioritis was setting in in hard. She had even cut back her time volunteering at the animal shelter just for more time to relax. Lana hadn’t had a job in over a year purely out of choice, because she knew the added stress would make her want to set everything on fire. She’d had a job all throughout undergrad and still had a bunch of money saved up, but she’d also had the memories of being sleep deprived and over-caffeinated for almost three years straight to go along with that. Lana knew she was lucky though. Her parents had saved thousands of dollars since she was born for her college tuition, and since she’d gotten scholarships to pay for that, her mother had given her what was saved to cover whatever else was needed. _About the only thing they ever got right,_ she thought bitterly, unlocking her front door. She shook her head, chastising herself. They weren’t bad all the time. Just most of the time.

Lana texted Clark to come over after showering and got a response that he’d be there in about forty-five minutes. She’d dried the excess water off of her body and relished in the knowledge that she’d be home alone for the weekend. Chloe had called her a few hours earlier saying that she’d left to Kansas City for a couple of days to see her dad and brother, which meant that Lana could be totally free. Foregoing clothing altogether, she let her hair air-dry and went about making dinner stark naked. Ten minutes later, a few pieces of chicken were in the oven and assorted vegetables were all chopped up.

Lana brought her laptop out to the kitchen to browse through some Youtube videos, but she couldn’t focus on any of them. Every so often her mind would drift to thoughts of Clark. She wouldn’t dare sacrifice her composure and ogle him openly, but she’d always spent many of their moments together stealing glances to admire the way he looked.

Between Lana and her roommate, Lana was the least boy-crazy, though that wasn’t saying much. She was still quite the sexual person. Unfortunately, she was entirely straight and didn’t normally come across many guys who could stifle their idiocy long enough to stimulate those feelings in her and so often went a while without sex. _Obviously Clark doesn’t have that problem,_ she thought. _What with his annoyingly perfect smile and annoyingly wholesome farm-boy charm and his annoyingly gorgeous everything._ Not being immune, she figured it wouldn’t be difficult for him to get other women to feel the same way. A grimace touched her face as she scrolled mindlessly. The thought of Clark having sex with some random woman was definitely not one of her favorites. Lana had noticed, and willfully ignored, women (and men) leering at him when they took walks around the neighborhood, knowing full well that if she didn’t control her emotions she had the potential to be quite the jealous girlfriend. Thankfully, Clark seemed to be totally oblivious to all the staring.

She smiled to herself. It was annoying, but Lana found that she kind of liked being all excited about him. At any moment she could be possessed by the urge to kiss him, run her fingers through his hair, or jump on his back for a piggyback ride. _Or maybe ride him a different way,_ she thought. Lana shook her head roughly, hoping to get a hold on that persistent train of thought. For as long as she’d known Clark, she had always been vaguely aware of all his great qualities and how much of a catch he was. But ever since the night that they kissed for the first time Lana had been feeling her acknowledgement melt into a longing that was getting harder and harder to control.

Clark never made a move on her, which was both endearing and frustrating. By now, Lana would have lost interest if it had been anyone else. But she’d caught the way he looked at her. She figured out early on that Clark wanted her just as much as she wanted him or even more so, but was too used to being careful all the time to unabashedly take what he wanted. She couldn’t blame him. After spending all those years being super cautious about his powers, the habit had to have developed emotionally as well. Either way, she preferred dealing with someone considerate over someone who wasn’t.

Admittedly, she hadn’t taken any initiative either. The first couple of weeks after their kiss were a little awkward, to put it mildly, and the two of them were a little tentative to explore this new territory. _That didn’t make me any less hot for him, though_ , Lana thought with a chuckle. Clark had a way of flawlessly mixing his shy, good-natured side with his confident “sarcastic little shit” side, which Lana found irrefutably attractive. Even his awkwardness was charming, especially when he’d cover up any embarrassment with a well-placed one-liner. Now that Lana was thinking back on her friendship with Clark, she realized that she had always had a thing for him. It had just been covered up by her loneliness when she was a teenager. Lana would never admit it out loud, but her knowledge of the fact that she didn’t _need_ friends did absolutely nothing to erase the fact that she desperately _wanted_ friends. So when Clark came into her life, all lanky arms and wavy hair, she held onto him tight and never let him go.

Funnily enough, it had only taken one physically intimate action to make the switch from friend to something more. It was like her heart had been frantically waiting for any small opening it could use to tell her brain what was up, and then it took its chance. Before, she’d miss Clark from time to time but going months without talking with him was never that big a deal. Now, talking to him made her giddy with excitement and she couldn’t go a day without doing so at some point. Of course, she was always smooth and kept her cool when she did. She wouldn’t let a man’s ego run rampant with the knowledge she was completely head over heels for him, even if it was Clark.

Lana’s phone vibrated and she immediately snatched it up. She had a text from Clark asking if she’d eaten.

“Shit,” she whispered, cursing her absentmindedness. Lana was cooking with Clark in mind but obviously had forgotten to tell him that. Instead of texting back, she decided to take a video. Using her phone’s front camera, she recorded herself while aiming above her shoulders since she was too lazy to put on any clothes. A mischievous smirk slipped onto her face with the knowledge that she was about to make this video completely naked and Clark would never know.

“I am currently making dinner for us, so make sure you get here with an empty stomach. You can bring some snacks and booze if you want, though.” Lana dropped her voice a little, letting her natural smirk grace her lips. “It’s just us tonight.”

With that, she stopped recording and sent the video to Clark in a message. After putting the chopped vegetables in the oven with the chicken and setting pasta to boil on the stove, she went to get dressed. Pulling on a white sports bra, matching underwear, black leggings and a large green t-shirt, she chuckled at the idea of answering the door totally nude when Clark arrived. The look on his face would be hilarious. Deciding to continue dressing and ignore makeup, she pulled her hair back in a ponytail and went to check on the food. Dinner would be ready soon.

Lana checked her phone and saw a text from Clark, immediately preceded by a heart-eyes emoji.

_Okay, see you soon._

Cooking had lulled Lana into a peaceful state of mild relaxation, but now she was all perked up again. When the pasta was ready, she turned everything off and set the table while humming to herself. An easy night in with Clark was exactly what Lana wanted and needed, and it came a lot quicker than expected as the doorbell rang.

Lana padded over on bare feet and answered the door to find her best friend (boyfriend? she wasn’t sure) with a thoughtful expression on his face that immediately changed into a smile. Lana snaked her hands around his neck and pulled him down to kiss him slowly, savoring the feel of his lips.

“Hello to you, too,” said Clark after they broke apart.

Lana pulled him inside by the arm. He was holding two small bags and a case of beer. Coronas – Lana’s favorite. “Hey, handsome. You hungry?”

Clark chuckled at her exaggerated deep voice. “Always. Where’s Chloe?”

“Well that just does wonders for my ego.” Lana took the bags from him and put them on the kitchen counter before draining the pasta she’d left on the stove.

Her voice was teasing, but Clark still soothed. He walked up behind her at the sink and wrapped his arms around her waist. She settled back into him as he kissed her cheek. “It should, because I’m trying to have you all to myself. I missed you.”

Lana tried to hold back a smile, but failed. They’d seen each other five days ago, but hell if she didn’t miss him too.

“She’s staying with family for the weekend. It’s just you and me tonight.”

The implications of that seemed to dawn on both of them at that moment. They hadn’t really had much extended alone time over the past month, as Lana had a busy schedule and Clark hadn’t wanted to crowd her much. He’d visited every week and sometimes more than once in a week, but he’d never stayed the night. Clark wasn’t sure what the protocol was for whatever he had with Lana at the moment, and neither one of them had initiated a conversation about it. It wasn’t exactly awkward between them, but there was definitely an elephant in the room that was getting ignored.

Lana turned around in Clark’s arms and hopped up on her tip toes to kiss him. It was a quick peck with jovial energy that made him laugh before she slipped away to serve the food and open beer bottles. Clark made sure to help, and soon they were eating with Lana at one end of the table and him at her left.

They talked while they ate, swapping stories of the day’s activities. Lana was fascinated with things that involved Clark’s powers, now that she knew. Admittedly, she had always thought it would be extremely cool (albeit terrifying) to find that humans weren’t alone in the universe but finding out her best friend was an alien was something she just hadn’t been ready for. During the first week she pretended to be totally chill about it while still internally freaking out, but by the end of the second week she found it wasn’t really much of an act. The more she saw Clark, the more relaxed she became. Nothing about Clark’s personality or demeanor had changed much, which made it easier for her to ease into acceptance. Now she was excited, especially upon hearing of Clark’s “Fortress.”

Clark listened intently as she rambled about her project concerning a jet engine, her lecture, and her professional applications her professors had urged their students to complete for months now. She’d applied for internships and fellowships with all the big names first (The Boeing Company, NASA, Kord Industries, Tesla, and LuthorCorp) before going on to apply for a bunch of other ones after researching little by little. She hadn’t gotten into Kord or NASA, but was still waiting on responses from the other three. Clark loved hearing Lana talk about engineering, because even though it took a lot out of her he knew that she loved it. Most of her life had been devoid of choice, so being in Central City with the opportunity to do what she thought would make her happy and fulfilled was just as important to Clark as it was to her.

Lana watched Clark finish the last of his food. His tongue darted out to catch the sauce at the corner of his mouth, revealing one of his dimples and accentuating his jaw. He was wearing mostly black today, except for the white t-shirt beneath his open black and grey flannel. There was no jacket this time, so she could see the outline of his broad shoulders. She whimpered internally. _He’s so gorgeous it’s almost annoying,_ she thought. _It’s totally because he’s an alien. Humans don’t get to look that good all the time._

“You’re staring,” said Clark suddenly. Lana jumped at his interjection, snapping back to reality.

She finished her plate. “Well, yeah. You’re quite the looker.”

He chuckled, smirking with a hint of a blush. _No fucking way!_ Lana screamed in her head. _You can’t be adorable and sexy at the same time. It’s not fair! There are rules to this shit._

“Thanks. I guess I’m not bad looking,” Clark responded, getting up and taking their dishes. He turned the faucet in the kitchen sink on and a couple of seconds later the dishes were all washed.

Watching his speed wasn’t nearly as alarming for Lana as it used to be. “That’s like saying the sun is just kinda warm,” she answered.

“Well it _is_ kinda warm.”

“Your modesty is ridiculous.” Lana’s laptop was still in the kitchen, so she retrieved it and walked to the couch. Clark followed and they settled on the left side, Lana half sitting in his lap with her legs stretched out horizontally.

“I like to the leave the cockiness to you. It’s well deserved anyway.”

“Damn straight.”

Lana put on a playlist and set her laptop aside. The music played softly in the background while they talked and talked, laughing and teasing and debating in serious tones. Lana had her arm draped across his left shoulder so that her hand was resting between his shoulder blades when she leaned back against the side of the couch. Clark’s left arm sat on the armrest against which Lana was leaning, so that she was resting against his arm as well and his hand held her left side. His right hand rested on top of her legs, occasionally drifting back and forth over her leggings. They were soft, clinging to her muscular legs like a second skin. When in this position, he never could keep his hands off them for long. Not that he wanted to anyway. Lana’s presence had a way of making itself felt, so whenever she was close his senses were completely flooded with her. The only scent in the air was hers. The spot on his back where her fingers rested burned. The proximity had him almost screaming internally with the need to be closer to her.

Clark was acutely aware of Lana’s voice as well, so even when distracted he had no problem paying attention to the conversation. She was animated, talking about how much she loved the movie _The Breakfast Club_ even though she acknowledged how overhyped it’s been over the years. He couldn’t help but smile. She was waving her free hand around with her words in tandem with outrageous facial expressions. Lana wasn’t normally super talkative, but she was with him. He liked that.

“But the song at the end!” she exclaimed. “It’s _so_ good. It feels just like the movie feels.”

“Yeah, I do love that song,” said Clark. “But my favorite 80s movie is still _Ferris Bueller’s Day Off._ ”

Lana rolled her eyes while a smile grew on her face. “I guess we can’t all have impeccable movie taste, can we?”

He gave her an offended look. “What? That movie is great!”

“I don’t disagree. But better than _The Breakfast Club_ though? That’s just crazy talk.”

Clark narrowed his eyes at her in mock annoyance. Lana copied him, sticking her tongue out the side of her mouth. They stared each other down for several seconds, until Lana couldn’t hold back a fit of giggles. Clark joined in of course. To him, Lana’s laughter was the most contagious.

After catching their breaths, they settled in even closer than they were before. Clark’s hand went back to gliding over her legs. Lana dragged her hand across the top of Clark’s back and up his neck, fingertips barely sliding over his skin and stopping to play with his hair. Clark sighed contentedly.

Lana watched Clark in their comfortable silence. She was studying his face like she did from time to time, but his hand on her legs was very distracting. Little did Clark know that this move of his always drove Lana absolutely crazy. She was sure it was something he just did absentmindedly since they’d established their comfortability with physical contact, but that just made it even hotter. Lana knew she was the more touchy-feely one, liking to touch because she liked to be touched, so it was nice when Clark initiated that on his own. Any and all contact carried an emotional element for her, and this one came with a relaxed kind of bliss. At least, that’s what it had been for years. More recently though, it had carried a little extra intensity and she was feeling it now.

Clark’s hands were strong, and she could feel it even in his soft touches. Every time he would move upward her stomach would clench with the effort of making sure she didn’t squirm in his lap.

“That’s distracting.”

Clark’s voice snapped Lana out of her mounting excitement. Blinking, she registered what he said. _You don’t fucking say, buddy!_ she thought in response. Out loud, she gave a different one. “What’s distracting?”

“Your hand. The way you touch me.” Lana continued playing with his hair, spurred on by his words. Clark closed his eyes and sighed. He was super sensitive to touch, and the lazy yet confident way Lana touched him made his heart pound in his chest. She had soft hands that were stronger than they looked, which was something Clark always found quite attractive. Feeling them on him like this was always enough to get him thinking some impure thoughts. No longer the wide-eyed innocent teenager he was in high school, he was well versed in these urges and knew exactly what to do with them.

Lana snaked her hand up to close her fist around a wad of his wavy hair and pulled down slowly on a whim. Clark let his head roll back, opening his eyes and drifting them lazily over to look Lana in the face. He raised an eyebrow. His face didn’t have much of an expression, but Lana saw his eyes hold a challenge.

A loud vibrating noise interrupted their moment, and Clark’s eyes shifted to find the source of the sound automatically. It was Lana’s phone, whose screen had just lit up with a notification. Lana had set it on top of her laptop earlier, and Clark could see it clearly from where he was sitting. “You’ve got an email,” he said.

Lana blinked, coming out of their moment much slower than he had. “Really? It’s kind of late, even for school emails.”

She leaned over and snatched up her phone. Both of them were silent for a moment before Lana spoke again. “Holy shit,” she whispered with unfocused eyes. “Holy _shit!_ ”

“What? What is it?” asked Clark, his forehead creasing in concern.

Lana’s blank face changed to one of pure joy and excitement with a big, bright smile as she thrusted her phone in his face. He took it from her and read it three times all the way through at super speed. It was an acceptance letter, right there in plain text: Lana was chosen to be part of a small group of graduates that were to be mentored and groomed for the industry as they contributed to important projects. Clark marveled at the coincidence; they’d just talked about this earlier.

“You got into the LuthorCorp Fellowship,” he breathed with wide eyes, a lopsided smile growing on his face.

Lana was still grinning from ear to ear, practically buzzing. “I got into the LuthorCorp Fellowship! I got in!”

“You got in!” Clark laughed. Lana curled herself inward and lurched forward, tackling him in a huge, crushing hug. The movement was awkward in such a small space since they were so close together, resulting in Lana steadying herself in a straddled position over his lap. He hugged her back and whispered in her ear, “I’m so proud of you.”

Lana pulled back and looked at him, her arms still around his neck. It was just five words, but they’d sent her spiraling in a whirlwind of emotion. To her it was silly to be so affected by something so simple, especially since she’d convinced herself that she needed no one else for personal validation. And yet, hearing Clark say what she’d been longing to hear from others but hadn’t was almost more than she could handle in the moment.

She didn’t trust herself to respond with her words, so she kissed him deeply, putting as much as she could into the display of affection. Clark didn’t complain. He kissed her just as intensely and held her tighter to him. His heart swelled and his body buzzed with the same burst of happiness he always got when they kissed. It was something on a level of its own, and he knew he’d never tire of it.

At first the kiss was all warm emotion, but they soon found that neither of them could stop. It was instinctual. Their searing embrace ebbed and flowed like a rising tide, and their bodies moved in tune. Little by little they created a bit more distance, letting their hands take advantage and begin to roam.

Lana backed up off of him to settle herself even closer and mashed her lips to his again, surging forward to keep her body in contact with his. She could feel his arms wrapping around her waist, sparking a deeper, hungrier kiss than they’d ever had. Her fingers dug into him and she swallowed a groan of his at the touch. Lana whimpered at the sound, sliding her hands up to hold his face. The two of them were breathless, kissing and holding each other like each was the other’s only source of air. Clark’s hands squeezed around her hips, and she couldn’t stop the moan that forced its way out of her throat. Lana grinded against him, feeling his now noticeable hardness through his jeans and the wetness forming between her own legs. The sound of Clark’s ragged breaths mixed with hers sent her spiraling. Clark raked his hands over her thighs and then gripped them forcefully, and she just about lost it.

Clark couldn’t think. From the moment their lips met, he was dizzy with everything Lana. He could hear both their heartbeats pounding. The feel of her hips grinding in his lap was otherworldly. There was a time when the thought of being like this with Lana was beyond his wildest dreams, but the taste of her tongue and the strength of her hands told him that it was real. The small sounds that came up from the back of her throat elicited some from him as well. He was losing himself in her, and the effort to keep control was getting harder and harder to maintain.

Clark slipped his hands under her thighs and lifted her, standing up and breaking the kiss. He blinked to get his bearings, but Lana immediately wrapped her legs around his waist and started kissing down his jaw and along his neck. Before he could completely lose focus, he moved quickly, gliding to Lana’s bedroom in a blur. She didn’t seem to notice, too busy trying to devour him to pay attention to anything else. Instead, she found his lips again and kissed him hard, alternating between biting and sucking on his lips with her own. Her arms were tight around his neck, draped downward with her nails digging into his back over his shirt. They both were almost panting now, clinging to each other as if trying to melt into one.

Lana lowered her legs and finally broke this kiss, chest heaving as she stood less than a foot away from her best friend with her back to her bed. Clark saw her glazed eyes refocus, darting around the room. Lana looked back up at and gave him devilish grin.

“Sneaky,” she huffed in almost a whisper, her voice wrapped with the edge of arousal. She grabbed Clark by his shirt and pulled, turning him around so that they’d switched positions. Clark moved to bring her closer again, but she pushed him back to stop his advance and instead lifted his t-shirt. With a little help, it was over his head and on the floor. Lana’s eyes glided over every inch of his bare torso, and an audible moan escaped her lips. She was already wet for him, but at this rate she thought she’d soak her leggings.

He was perfect to her, chiseled and defined as all hell, but not ridiculously ripped and bulging. There was some hair on his chest and just above his waist line, but he was mostly bare. She studied the freckles and beauty marks on his skin with the light from the hallway and smiled. Lana almost lost herself in awe until her eyes settled upon his abs, which immediately gave her the urge to lick him. They were beautiful and just slightly asymmetrical; Lana doubted she would have realized had she not been this close to him. She raked her hands over them, licking her lips. She was grateful that Clark had forgone his shoes and button down shirt earlier, because any type of clothing would be a complete hindrance. The less, the better. Her brown eyes found his again, and the dark blue held a hunger she’d never seen in them before. Lana wanted to see just how far she could take him.

Pressing against him, she dragged her hand down over his skin to the top of his pants. Though Clark had been quite physical minutes before, now he stood almost frozen. Lana watched him watch her, emboldened with each passing second. Her hands made quick work of his belt buckle, and with a quick tug she’d taken it off and tossed it onto the floor to keep his shirt company. Next was her own t-shirt. The sports bra she wore left her showing ample cleavage and exposed midriff, flaunting a flat stomach with just a hint of abs. She’d worked a ton to get past her self-consciousness, both mentally and physically, and now took pleasure at putting herself on display. Clark seemed to appreciate it too, since his eyes immediately caressed her body when she’d stripped, lingering on her breasts, muscles, and the swell of her hips.

Lana smirked and slipped forward, unbuttoning Clark’s jeans when he finally moved again. His hands came to catch her wrists, and before Lana could give him a look of confusion he turned her around to face the other way. Clark knelt behind her and pulled at her leggings, sliding them over her hips and down her legs so she could step out of them. He ran his hands over her bare legs, reveling in the smoothness of her skin while moving to kiss and lick the small of her back and around her hips.

Lana thrust her hips back into him and squeezed her thighs together. Her mind reeled at the sensations. Yep, she was definitely soaked now. Clark turned her around again and, still on his knees, began giving the same treatment as before. Lana felt his tongue nip at the skin just above her panties and her hips bucked while an involuntary moan hit the air.

“ _Clark_ ,” she gasped. Her body was on fire, but he was teasing her. And as much as she was loving every second of it, she needed to have him. _Now._

She grabbed his shoulders and pulled upward. He followed, only to have her push against his chest. “Pants off, please,” she said in a commanding tone. Clark smirked and raised an eyebrow, but complied. Now standing in only his boxers, he pulled her forward to kiss her again. Lana relished the feel of being pressed against his body, and reached between them to feel how hard he was. It was like holding steel, and she sighed into the kiss at the contact. She rubbed him back and forth through the material, drawing a grunt from Clark that rumbled deep in his chest. The sound drove her crazy, and she immediately broke the kiss and dropped to her knees.

Lana practically tore his boxers off of him and then took him into her mouth. Clark’s response was immediate, a low sigh flowing through his lips. She dragged her hands over his thighs and bobbed her head forward and back, taking more and more of him until he reached the back of her throat. She wrapped her lips around his cock and slowly pulled back to the tip, dragging her tongue underneath him. Her eyes had been closed, savoring the feel of him in her mouth, but she opened them to look up at him. At first his were closed too, his forehead creased with the effort of controlling his breathing. Soon they were open, though, looking down at her as she slowly teased him with her tongue.

“You’re really good at that,” he panted.

Lana sucked him in again and then came up off him. She replaced her mouth with her hand and stroked him at the same pace she’d been going before. Her head tilted a bit and her trademark smirk appeared on her face. There were very few things Lana loved more than having someone fall prey and lose control at the attention of her mouth and tongue. It was so erotic, and seeing Clark struggle to keep his composure was the biggest turn on. She leaned back in, talking almost to the sizeable appendage in front of her as much as the man to which it was connected.

“Oh, so you like that, huh?” Lana engulfed him with her mouth again, trying one last time to take all of him into her throat, but to no avail. She groaned in both frustration and admiration, adding a hand to stroke the bottom of his shaft while she licked and sucked the top. Lana hadn’t been with too many guys, but she’d always been able to take their entire length into her mouth. Clark wasn’t unusually long, but definitely proportionate to the size of the rest of him and thicker than she would’ve guessed. The feel of him rocking his hips to get him further into her mouth made her hornier than she’d ever been, and she reached between her own legs to touch herself. Her panties were sticking to her, and she had to peel the fabric away to get direct contact. Her fingertips glided across her folds, coating themselves in her wetness before attacking her clit. She built up a fast rhythm working both of them vigorously, moaning around her best friend’s cock.

Clark was in a state of bliss, unable to control the low grunts and moans rumbling in his chest. Lana’s mouth was too good on him, and he found himself slipping a hand into her hair and thrusting his hips in excitement. He loved the little noises she made around him and the flawless way she both sucked and stroked him had his body swimming with pleasure. When he was younger he’d been extremely worried about losing control of his powers during intimate moments, but in the past few years he’d eased himself into more and more practice, so he hadn’t been too worried with Lana. Now, panting with pleasure, he knew it would take much more effort than usual to control himself.

Clark reached down to gently eased her off of his erection. His body screamed against that action and definitely wanted Lana to continue, but Clark had other things on his mind. Lana whimpered defiantly at the loss of contact, her lips letting go of him with a small pop. Clark guided her up to her feet and kissed her quickly before moving closer to the bed. In the haze of arousal he misjudged his position and ended up slamming his knee into the side of the bed in a bout of clumsiness. Instead of bouncing off like it would for anybody else, his knee kept moving forward which caused the entire bed to shift left a few inches.

Lana, wiping her mouth, was unable to hold back her laughter and snorted loudly. “Real smooth.”

Clark rolled his eyes amusingly and pulled her to him, slipping an arm around her back to hold her in place. His other hand stroked the skin of her stomach and traveled further down to settle over the wet spot of her panties, just over her clit. He moved his fingers back and forth lightly in a lazy rhythm. Lana shuddered at his touch.

“What was that?” he asked, looking at her face. “You’ll have to speak up, Lana.”

The only sound Lana made was a high-pitched mewling noise through tightly pursed lips. Her eyes were locked to his as she grinded on his hand. They sudden change in his demeanor and his hand suddenly at her center was making her skin vibrate. She had goosebumps everywhere, and she could feel that familiar tension start to build inside her.

Clark took pleasure in Lana’s reactions to his movements, savoring every little whimper and change in expression. Her forehead was creased in concentration and her lips were parted, letting short quick breaths out between them as she struggled to remember to breathe. The feel of her losing control in his hold spurred him on and he quickened the pace of his ministrations, keeping the same rhythm. Lana’s eyes squeezed shut and a loud moan escaped her lips as she doubled over against him, grinding harder on his hand. She kissed and licked his chest between moans, clawing at his arms all the while. Feeling obstructed, Clark moved the part of Lana’s underwear that was covering the source of her wetness so he could get to it directly. Upon contact with her clit she bit his chest hard and bucked, her breath catching.

“ _Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop,_ ” she whispered into him.

Clark knew she was getting close and knew better than to break the rhythm of his fingers, but he still wanted to give her something a bit more. Of course, he’d need her consent first. “Mind if I try something?”

“You…can do anything…you want to me,” Lana huffed between deep breaths and strangled moans. Her eyes were tightly shut and her face was scrunched up focusing on the sensations between her legs.

Clark continued to move his fingers over her clit as he had been, but this time he started to vibrate his hand within the movement at a steady pace. He’d never tried this with anyone else and was hoping for a good response, but he didn’t have to wait long. Lana reacted immediately, her eyes flying wide open as she started to feel the vibrations on her clit. She tightened her grip on him, and as her browns caught his blues again she exploded on his fingers.

She arched into him and moaned louder than she had until then, muffled by her burying her face in his bare chest. Lana lost track of everything except the pleasure racking her body and the fireworks detonating behind her eyes. Even her own cries of ecstasy seemed to be coming from somewhere else. Her hips bucked against Clark and she rode out her orgasm on his hand, finally coming down after what seemed like forever on a high. She leaned against him, panting, and he held her close.

Clark chuckled softly as Lana’s breathing evened out. She mumbled something against his chest, but since he wasn’t expressly paying attention, he didn’t hear.

“What’d you say?”

Lana backed up a bit and looked up at him with lidded eyes and a piercing stare. “I said I want you on your back.”

She moved him and he followed at her touch, turning and walking backward until his legs hit the end of the bed. He sat and scooted back before lying down, never breaking eye contact with Lana as she slipped her fingers in the waist of her panties and pushed downward. She crossed one leg in front of the other and let them drop down to the floor for her to step out of them before she stalked forward and climbed on top of him. The smile on her lips grew into a lopsided grin as she straddled him and placed her hands on his chest. Finally, she was no longer impeded. With a flick of her head she whipped the hair out of her face and over her shoulder, leaning back to fully sit on his lap. Her butt was nestled against his dick and she wiggled her hips playfully while her hands moved to peel off her sports bra. She sighed contentedly at the freedom, now in full birthday suit. Clark couldn’t help but take one of her breasts in his hand and play with her nipple. She bit her lip and sighed in response.

“I know you like to tease, Clark, but I’m way past that,” she whispered, and lowered herself onto his hardness in one full motion. The both of them groaned and tensed in response, reveling in the completion of their physical union. She took him all the way down to the hilt, and grinded her clit onto him with a roll of her hips. “Fuck yeah,” she breathed.

Clark immediately lifted his hips to meet her movements, causing Lana to lean forward and dig her nails into him to steady herself. They moved in unison, Lana grinding and Clark thrusting, slowly losing themselves in each other and working up to a smoldering frenzy. Clark’s hands roamed her body, gripping and teasing all the way as Lana started to move up and back while rolling her hips. Her eyes were shut in concentration and her lips parted with each breathy moan. Clark thrusted upward to match her pace, hard and slow, softly bouncing her on top of him every time she came down to bury him inside her. It felt exquisite, and he couldn’t keep the sounds of his pleasure to himself any more than she could.

“You feel amazing,” he breathed, looking up at her. Lana’s only response was a low groan before dropping down over him and crashing her lips to his again. She kissed him hungrily, mewling into the kiss with soft high-pitched squeals at Clark’s new angle of entry. He pumped into her harder, and the two of them seemed to blend into one long moan of pleasure.

Every inch of their bodies was pressed against the other, and Lana finally opened her eyes with her forehead resting against Clark’s. She found him looking back at her, and her arousal-induced frenzy subsided into contented bliss. He seemed to feel it too, and this time their kiss was slower, but more powerful. It wasn’t as ravenous and consuming as before, but somehow it was more intense. Clark continued to thrust into her and she continued to meet him, but the pace was much slower than before. Both of them were teetering on the edge of release, lost in the limbo between fucking and making love.

As if with one mind, they both rolled so that Lana was now on her back with Clark over her. Never sacrificing eye or skin contact, the two of them moved together again, Clark plunging into her with long deep strokes and Lana moving her hips to meet him as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her breaths came in deep gasps and she gripped his shoulders, looking up at him. Lana was locked there with him, unable to concentrate on anything except the blue of his eyes and the feeling of him thrusting into her. She could feel him tense more and more as she gripped him, knowing he was getting close as well. She wanted his release just as badly as she needed her own.

A low, ragged growl escaped Clark’s lips. It was barely audible, but with their closeness the sound was just enough to send Lana over the edge. Her orgasm was unexpected in its intensity, and she found she couldn’t keep her eyes on his any longer. Her arms locked around his neck and her entire body arched as her eyes squeezed shut and her lips parted in a silent scream of pleasure. Clark kept thrusting in deep and moaning into her neck, and Lana’s hips bucked in her peak.

She eventually came back to earth with her chest heaving and her eyes closed in exhaustion. Clark had slowed his movements to almost a halt, burying himself deep inside her and grinding his hips instead of thrusting in and out. He held her tight in his arms as he breathed deeply, slowing his own breathing while kissing and licking along her chest. She cooed as he gave lazy attention to her nipples. Lana could feel herself still quivering around his cock, and could feel how hard he still was. After a minute of enjoying the attention to her breasts, she tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

“Lie down.”

Clark looked at her with a preoccupied expression, and then slowly complied. He slipped out of her, eliciting a short gasp from his best friend, and rolled over. Lana immediately followed to hover over him and initiate a kiss. It was becoming second nature for her now. She slipped a hand around his cock, still hard as steel and slick with her juices, and stroked up and down in a controlled, deliberate motion. Her lips and tongue dragged their way down his body, savoring the taste of his skin.

Clark sighed at the attention. “That feels really good,” he whispered. “I’m so close.”

Lana hummed and kissed him lovingly. “Give it to me,” she said with a rough softness. Lowering herself down to meet her hand, she took him into her mouth again. She went as far as she could and bobbed up and down at a slow pace, stroking him with her hand every time she came up. She licked the underside of his shaft as her lips closed tightly around him, humming contentedly.

Clark was more relaxed now than he had been all night. He enjoyed Lana’s attention for obvious reasons, but also for the reprieve from maintaining self-control. His eyes drifted closed and he settled into the sensations, small moans and grunts flowing freely. It didn’t take long for Lana’s skilled movements to send him over the edge.

Lana heard her best friend’s gasps and felt him swell on her lips with his impending orgasm, and continued with fervor. She let him in ride it out in her mouth and felt the evidence of his pleasure splash against her tongue and the back of her throat. It was completely expected yet it still surprised her in its intensity. Lana moaned around him, immediately deciding that she loved it. Coming off the highs of her own orgasms and taking the time to focus on Clark, she had a chance to think – at least in a basic sense. She found that even though she’d enjoyed sex with other men, she’d never gotten this kind of contentment from pleasuring someone else. It always felt like something she _should_ do, not something she ever _needed_ to do. With Clark, she felt like it was something she had to do and would love doing, simple as that. And she was right.

Lana made her way back to his face and soon she was lying fully on top of him, peppering him with kisses and laughing in earnest. She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t stop.

“What’s so funny?” Clark asked with a lopsided smile. It took a little while for Lana to calm down enough to answer.

“Sorry-sorry, it’s just…this was the _last_ thing I expected to happen when you came over. Hoped, maybe, but never really expected,” she said. Her head flopped down onto his chest and she relaxed completely on top of him. “Gosh, that was so much better than what I expected.”

Clark’s chest vibrated with laughter. “Well that’s good to hear.”

“Mmhmm,” Lana said with a smile, nuzzling into him.

Clark was pleasantly surprised. Not at Lana’s candor per se, but at her demeanor. She was hardly ever one to be giddy or offer positive comments so easily. He decided he liked this side of her. More pressing, though, was the onset of his overthinking. He hadn’t expected it either, and now he couldn’t help feel uneasy. They hadn’t really specified the change in their relationship, and sex could really complicate things. Clark definitely didn’t want to go back to the way things were before all this with Lana, but he couldn’t help but worry at what could happen if they didn’t talk about it.

“Stop it,” Lana said suddenly, still on his chest and not looking up at him. Her voice was groggy.

“What?”

“I can hear you thinking from here. You’re all tense. So stop it. No more thoughts. Just us.”

Despite his musings, Clark smiled. It was never that easy for him, but damn if he wouldn’t try. He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Lana. He could worry about all of it later, but right now he was with Lana and that trumped everything else.

“Congratulations on the acceptance letter,” Clark whispered, kissing the top of her head. Lana chuckled.

“Thanks, babe.”


	6. How Do You Be You Without Being You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark brings Lana and his mother to the Fortress and takes the next steps toward realizing his plan.

< _What were you doing on Krypton, Daxamite?_ > Faora drawled with a healthy amount of boredom, peering through the metal bars of the double layered gate of the holding cell. The look the prisoner gave in response was one of annoyed resignation. He turned to face her almost lazily, a passive look on his face.

< _Hiding._ >

An ugly snorting sound came from behind Faora. Jax had walked up to stand at her left several feet away. He was obviously amused by the Daxamite’s answer.

< _Didn’t do a very good job, then, did you?_ > said Jax.

< _I could say the same for you and your rebellion,_ > the Daxamite retorted. Jax’s face turned hard as stone. The prisoner smiled, looking at both armored Kryptonians and then at the space between them. They seemed to unconsciously fall in line that way. < _Where is your general?_ >

< _That is not your concern,_ > responded Faora. < _Why were you hiding?_ >

< _What does it matter to you?_ >

< _Answer the question,_ taiium,> snarled Jax.

The Daxamite glared at the large Kryptonian. He was not fond of that word. _Taiium_ meant “foreigner” or “stranger,” and even though it wasn’t an insult per se, it was certainly never used as a term of endearment on Krypton.  < _My name is Dev-Em._ >

< _I am Faora Hu-Ul, and you will answer my question._ >

Dev locked eyes with Faora. After a few seconds, he shrugged. < _I slaughtered one of the royal families of Daxam to end their unjust rule. Not so different from you, it seems._ >

Faora cocked her head thoughtfully, scrutinizing him. Jax, characteristically, couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

< _You are nothing like us,_ > he said, puffing his chest and raising his chin. < _A Daxamite could never measure up_. >

Faora’s forehead creased. Dev rolled his eyes.

< _I suppose you’re right_ ,> conceded Dev. < _I doubt I’d ever measure up to the level of imbecility one would need to blow up an inhabited moon._ >

Jax seemed to forget the metal gate between them and rushed forward in anger. He stopped suddenly, or rather, was stopped. Faora had moved with the speed of a trained warrior and tugged him back to shove him behind her. Jax’s furious gaze turned to her.

< _Unfortunately,_ > said Faora, staring back, < _Dev-Em is correct. You were ordered to rally Wegthor to our cause, not destroy it. Normally I tolerate your foolishness at Zod’s request, but destruction of that magnitude could have attracted the Green Lantern Corps. Now if you cannot find the control necessary to hold your tongue and manage your actions, you will be forced to leave this interrogation._ >

Jax grunted and stormed off in frustration. Faora’s jaw clenched in annoyance, which had become an ongoing occurrence ever since Jax had been promoted. She’d expressed to Zod on multiple occasions her disdain for Jax’s presence, always at a loss when trying to enumerate his usefulness. Eventually she realized that Zod kept Jax around as extra muscle to do the grunt work so she would never have to. Dru-Zod was not one for sentiment, but he showed that he cared for her in less explicit ways. Faora appreciated it immensely, yet she still felt he could have picked someone better than Jax.

Faora turned back to Dev. He wore a bored but amiable expression, as if the reality of being a prisoner on a Kryptonian warship was akin to listening to an old history lesson.

< _Why do you put up with that lout?_ > he asked with a tone of mild curiosity. Faora took a controlled breath and ignored the question.

< _My general does not want to keep you here. You are of no use to us. Yet we are better than our oppressors, so we will not kill you or hold you prisoner if you pose no threat. As of right now, you don’t._ > Dev raised an eyebrow. She continued. < _You are to be released and immediately escorted to the scout ships where you will leave and go about enjoying your reacquaintance with freedom._ >

< _This is generous, considering your reputation,_ > said Dev, walking toward the gate of his cell. < _Your ruthlessness knows no bounds, matched only by your beauty, Faora Hu-Ul. Why am I to believe that you are better than anyone else of Krypton’s elite? Both the highest class and the dregs of society looked upon me with disdain at my sentencing, all because I was imprisoned for being a Daxamite. Forgive me if I am skeptical._ >

Faora pursed her lips. < _The general and I judge by strength of character, not by heritage. I…apologize for my partner’s lack of restraint._ >

Dev cocked his head, peering at the lieutenant with lidded eyes. < _Would you mind if I killed him upon my release?_ > he asked with a lilt in his voice, as if deciding what to have for dinner.

If the question surprised Faora, she did not show it. She stared passively and took longer to answer than Dev had expected she would.

< _My general would mind, so if you made any attempts on his life I am obligated to kill you._ >

< _Even if my intention is to take his place?_ >

Faora froze for a fraction of a second. < _What reason have you for this?_ > she asked warily. This interrogation was not going as expected at all. Faora was usually the most effective at steering the conversation where she wanted to go, but it seemed her stay in the Phantom Zone had left her more than rusty.

< _I overheard your general’s little chat with his apparent liberator. I have no intention of heading back to Daxam or of roaming the galaxies, and subjugating a planet sounds wonderful._ >

Faora felt uneasy. She knew better than to take a stranger at his word, but any reason the Daxamite had to lie had not yet presented itself. Moreover, Zod had not given her details regarding the orchestrator of their escape. Dev knew more than she did, and that did not sit well with Faora at all. She was not particularly fond of her current lack of knowledge. Furthermore, as much as she hated Jax, bringing Dev into the fold had the potential to be much more dangerous. And yet…

< _Killing Jax is out of the question. However, I will relay your proposal to General Zod. Until his decision has been made, you will remain here._ >

Faora turned to walk down the corridor, but before she was out of ear shot Dev called to her again. She stopped to listen.

< _Tell your general that if he’d like to get to Earth more quickly, I would be happy to build him a phantom drive. If I am granted a place among you, of course._ >

Faora pursed her lips tensely and left the corridor without another word.

**************************

The last week of April saw Clark and Martha finally move from the Kent farm to a condo in Keystone City. Martha had thought that Clark would be sad about the move since that was the only home he’d known, but to her he seemed really excited at the prospect of living in a new place – a city, no less. He’d come early one morning, and upon the news that the sale of the farm to Lana’s extended family had been finalized he’d immediately packed half the house at super speed.

They’d gone through the preparations little by little long before then, so it wasn’t much of a hassle even for him. Clark hadn’t gone with Martha a few weeks before to sign the agreement for their new place, but he’d dropped by before that to see it for himself in the middle of the night at super speed. He loved the big windows and the open rooms, and even though it was a little pricey they’d still gotten it for a steal. Selling the farm well meant they had a lot of money to save, so paying for their new home wouldn’t be too much of a hassle.

Martha, having been retired for a few years now, had more time on her hands than she knew what to do with. She was pretty healthy for someone her age, though she was showing early signs of arthritis, and wanted to spend her time crossing things off her bucket list instead of being idle. Part of her decision to move to the city was this desire, because everything new and interesting was far away from you when you live in a rural town most of your life. In places like Keystone City, you could walk two blocks and stumble into an experience that could change your life. She loved the thought of that.

Even though Clark technically lived there too, it was mostly Martha’s place. It was small, despite the spaciousness of the main rooms, and utilitarian, exactly what she needed. Clark stayed mostly at the Fortress and had never had many possessions anyway, so everything that he’d brought from Smallville was easily spread between there and Keystone City. He loved the new place, but thought it important for him to continue to be on his own. In addition, he’d taken up blogging and freelance writing heavily to earn money in his down time. Visiting his mother would never be a problem, and now it had the added benefit of being even closer to Lana than it had been before. The condo was in the second neighborhood from the eastern edge of Keystone City, which was a ten minute drive from the bridge into Central City. Lana could easily come visit too now if she was so inclined.

It had been a couple of weeks since Clark talked to Lana, expressing his mild confusion at the lack of definition regarding the new stages of their relationship. She had seemed almost relieved, as if she’d been holding her breath with thoughts of something similar. They established that they were both comfortable with how their relationship was progressing and that the basis of it was that they both wanted and needed to be in each other’s lives. The specifics weren’t as important as the certainty of how they felt about each other. However, since they were both comfortable with the label and the commitment to exclusivity, they were now officially boyfriend and girlfriend.

Lana’s graduation back in Central City had been a quiet and mildly awkward affair. Clark and Martha attended, of course, as did Lana’s parents. They were all proud of her and after all the time she’d spent with the Kents during high school it wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to be present. Nonetheless, there was still some tension. Though the two Kents were cordial, Martha in particular was not overly fond of them. She was aware of Thomas’s problems and Carol’s tendencies to make excuses for him, and nothing so far had led Martha to believe there had been any kind of improvement. After the ceremony Lana had actually engaged more with Clark and Martha than she did her parents, though she had talked with them separately when they’d first arrived. Thomas and Carol were undoubtedly uncomfortable (if not bitter) with that fact, but Martha couldn’t find it in her to be sympathetic since Lana had been coming to the Kent Farm more and more often over the years as she grew up. Since the specifics technically weren’t her business, though, Martha made sure to keep her mouth shut and be as amiable as Clark.

 

Though a few of the more important aspects of his life had changed, one thing in Clark’s life remained constant – his time at the Fortress. He continued to train with Kelex, though he had eased off on the volume. Instead of the physical stuff he began to focus on the logistics of coming out to the world as an alien being. He’d inevitably be in the spotlight in some form, and the prospect of bringing the people he cared about into that new orbit was terrifyingly worrisome. He didn’t want Martha or Lana (or anyone else who knew him, for that matter) to be affected by the prejudice and uncertainty that would surely follow. When running this by Lana, she’d given him a thought-provoking consideration. She’d said: how do you be you without being you?

 

The last Friday in May, Clark had used the Zeta-teleporter to take Lana and Martha up to the Fortress. They were both excited to see what Clark had told them so much about, and to meet Kelex. The whole place was thermo-regulated, so despite being in the Arctic the two ladies didn’t have to worry about staying warm in light clothing.

Clark considered himself immensely lucky to have a space totally his own that he did not have to pay for. He was appreciative of his biological father’s foresight not just with saving his life, as he now knew, but with making said life more convenient. Granted, if someone with his abilities had less of a moral compass they could easily find ways to obtain their basic needs without paying for them, but even with his desire to live by the law he didn’t have much to worry about. Given his body’s ability to absorb the sun’s radiation as sustenance, he didn’t need to eat much, or even at all. Food and shelter were taken care of, so there wasn’t much else in his life for which he needed money. What a privilege that was, he’d thought.

Clark went straight to the console while the other two split up and explored the rest of the Fortress. Admittedly there wasn’t much else to see besides the crystal furniture, training room, and some of Clark’s belongings, but he let them roam. The middle clearing still had much open space left since Clark and Kelex hadn’t really needed much other space due to how Clark had been training, but he had a feeling that as time went on he’d fill that space and then some.

“Kelex, run diagnostics and security sweeps please.”

“Sure thing, Kal,” came Kelex’s disembodied voice. Eventually Martha and Lana came to stand beside him at the console to watch.

“Your A.I. talks like a regular dude,” said Lana, running her eyes over the symbols on the console.

“Yeah,” Clark nodded. “The more we interact, the more fluid and colloquial his speech becomes. He was built by my father Jor-El and equipped with thousands of languages, but the Kryptonian language was used as a sort of template. Kryptonian language is formal in nature, so formal speech is Kelex’s default in every language. He learns to adapt with time, though.”

“No kidding,” said Martha, with an odd distant look in her eyes. “This is…advanced, Clark.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“So your other father, Jor-El,” said Lana, “built all of this?”

“In a manner of speaking,” interjected Kelex, who was now in his android form. Lana hadn’t seen him walk over, and so was quite startled. Clark made formal introductions now that Kelex had established the illusion of being more present with a body. Kelex continued after shaking Lana’s and Martha’s hands (to incredulous giggles from Martha). “It was modeled after a very large structure on Krypton in an effort to preserve Kryptonian architecture. Jor-El devised it so that it would be attracted to this planet’s closest geomagnetic pole and terraform the surrounding area into structures reminiscent of the crystals native to Krypton in this specific orientation.”

Lana gave Clark an impressed look. “Sweet,” she said.

“Sure,” offered Martha in a high voice. “No big deal.”

Kelex made his way to the console and worked a few of the commands. “Scans are complete, Kal. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing in the vicinity and cloaking is fully functional.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Kelex.” Clark turned back to his two companions and took a deep breath. “Okay. I brought you two here to check this place out, but mostly because I wanted to talk about something really important with the both of you while having Kelex at my disposal.”

“Okay, shoot,” said Lana.

As much as Martha was reeling at the alien technology, her focus was on Lana and her son. She looked at the both of them, marveling at how similar yet different the dynamic was between the other two compared to how it had been. The way they talked and looked at each other was virtually the same as it had always been, but the way they _moved_ around each other had changed drastically. It was like watching a binary star system. The two of them seemed to orbit around each other through a center space, and neither would ever get too far from the other.

“You know that I’ve been preparing on coming out to the world. I realize that this will have a serious effect on the both of you and everyone who knows me even a little, so I’ve decided that I can’t let myself be known to the world as I am.”

“I don’t understand, Clark. You’re just giving up?” his mother asked. “That’s not like you.”

“No, Ma. I meant that when I do this, it won’t be Clark Kent that the world will see. It’ll have to be someone else.”

Lana followed with a raised eyebrow. “Who are you going to be?”

Clark evaded their gazes sheepishly. “I was thinking I’d just be Kal-El. You know, since it’s technically my name too. Nobody else knows that name so it won’t tie me back to anyone.”

“Some people’ll still know your face, though,” reasoned Lana. “And any official documents and old records that have a picture of you will still be out there. Not to mention the very real possibility that government agencies will run facial recognition programs on you the second you out yourself.”

Martha looked at Lana with a wary expression and a raised eyebrow. Lana caught her eye.

“What?” she said. “I watch a lot of spy movies.”

“Kelex has that covered,” answered Clark. “He can access any and all digital databases, so I’ll give him altered pictures and descriptions and he’ll go in and change any official digital records. I won’t be able to do much about paper records like old yearbooks and stuff, but there really isn’t much else out there. Good thing I didn’t jump on the whole social media phase sprouting up now.”

“Yeah, your hindsight is 20-20,” said Lana. “But you can’t just replace pictures with ones that don’t look anything like you.”

Clark let out a small laugh. “I’m not. I’m using a picture of me, except with a different hairstyle, different color eyes, and glasses.”

Lana gave him a look. “Glasses? Your big disguise is going to be _glasses_? You’re kidding, right?”

“That does seem a little ridiculous, honey,” Martha interjected with an apologetic look.

“It’s not just that. Anyone who comes across the pictures probably won’t know me so that’s not a problem, but I’ll actually be wearing glasses from now on. The few who would actually recognize me without them haven’t seen me in a while save for you two, so they’ll probably think my eyesight got worse with age just like everyone else. But what’s more is that I’ll be acting differently too. Non-assuming, not drawing attention to myself like always, but dialed up to eleven.”

“So that as Clark you don’t seem to change that much but as Kal-El you can be a totally different person,” said Martha, fully catching on. “Hiding in plain sight.”

“Exactly. I won’t have to hide all the parts of me that I have been anymore. And I don’t exactly plan on having too many photo ops either.”

Lana and Martha exchanged looks. There was an unspoken understanding between them; each of them would always support Clark’s important choices.

“If this is how you want to do it, I’m with you,” said Lana. Clark beamed in response. She could see his shoulders sag in relief. He must have been a lot more nervous than he’d let on.

“Me too, of course,” Martha said with a smile. “We can figure out the smaller stuff later as we go.”

“One thing, though,” continued Lana. She wore a pensive expression, pausing to gather her thoughts and then continue. “If you won’t be hiding your powers and will be using them to help people, then I think you should wear a uniform. Like all other types of service people do.”

“What, like the Army?” asked Clark with a guarded look. Lana closed the distance between them and put a hand on his arm absentmindedly. “I don’t think that gives the best impression.”

“No, babe, that’s not what I mean,” said Lana softly, giving her boyfriend a patient look. “I was thinking something like a firefighter. Something that you wear every day that will come to make people feel protected, not scared.”

Clark nodded slowly, mulling it over. “What do you think, Ma?”

Martha looked around, surveying the space again and watching Kelex going through routine maintenance. She realized now that being in this Fortress and having this conversation would be a turning point in not just her life, but the lives of every single person on the planet. All of this was very real, and having this sneak peek let her know just how much change was about to bombard the world.

“Well,” she said, “you can’t change the world in a t-shirt and jeans, now can you?”

Lana grinned and gave Clark an “I told you so” look. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “That settles it then.”

Clark immediately enlisted Kelex, Martha and Lana to help with design. Practically all aspects of Kryptonian culture was archived, so he asked Kelex to bring up any and all types of uniforms worn on Krypton. Since part of Clark’s big decision was based on embracing his heritage, he wanted the bulk of the design to be Kryptonian. Martha particularly enjoyed the streamlined designs of the elected officials’ uniforms, but Lana thought they needed more color since they were mostly black, white or gold. Lana pointed out the deep blue of the Science Guild uniforms. Clark wasn’t too fond of the bulkiness of most military uniforms, but liked the capes of the high ranking officers. Clark and Lana both liked the red from the uniforms of the Priests of Rao. Martha thought Clark should wear a symbol like most uniforms had.

After almost two hours, the three of them (and Kelex) came up with a composite design. The base template was a blue full-length bodysuit like the Science Guild uniforms. Broadly, across the chest, was the same symbol Jor-El had on his robes in the hologram – the symbol for the House of El – emblazoned red with a yellow background. Boots and a cape modeled after those worn by lieutenants in the military were included, also red. A faded yellow band angled across the waist, giving the illusion of a belt.

Lana looked at Kelex’s projection of the finished design in awe. Of course, that meant she had tons of questions.

“Okay, this is totally awesome,” she said, “but one question. I know you seem to have the identity issue figured out but why don’t you just wear a mask? Seems like a no-brainer here, babe.”

Clark looked at her softly but shook his head. “I thought about that too. But I don’t want anyone to think I’m hiding. I want to be someone people can trust.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” said Martha, staring at the hologram of the suit’s design. Lana looked at both of them and sighed worriedly. She commended her boyfriend for his ideology and character, but still surmised it was a more dangerous option.

“Kelex?” Lana said tentatively, changing the subject. “Kryptonian materials aren’t exactly found on Earth, are they?”

“A significant portion are, but many are not,” responded Kelex. He was now flying around as the other, smaller helper robot.

“Will you be able to make it authentically Kryptonian, or will you have to use materials from here?”

“I could use earth materials, but then it would not be nearly as flexible or durable as it would be if I used Kryptonian materials. There is a slight problem, though. The suit would be made of a weaving of metals and synthetic polymers, and though the latter can be easily made in the matter manipulation chamber, the former cannot. This metal was common in the Rao system, but to my knowledge it wasn’t found on any other worlds besides Krypton and Daxam. I could make something similar, but it wouldn’t be the same. The suit would offer less protection against certain types of radiation and energy transfer, which could potentially leave Kal vulnerable despite his durability.”

Lana looked at Clark and then Martha, who was sitting on one of the crystal chairs across the room and still looking at the suit’s design. Clark stayed silent, lost in thought and standing a few meters away from Lana, who was at the console. A flicker of worry passed through her head at the realization that even with all of Clark’s powers, he wasn’t invincible.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” Martha said with a tired smile. “But what can we do about it?”

Kelex, uncharacteristically, did not answer right away. Clark did instead.

“What about my ship? Is it made of the same metal?” he asked slowly, looking at the object he mentioned. It was resting on a platform elevated almost a foot off the ground on the west end of the Fortress’s center clearing. The pod was still open, with Clark’s baby blanket visible from where they were.

“Partially, yes,” said Kelex. He did not elaborate.

“Then maybe we can use some of it. I’m sure you won’t need all of it, but I can remove some parts.”

Martha got up and walked toward her son, eying him with concern. “Are you sure, Clark?”

“Yeah, really,” said Lana, facing him. “Cannibalizing it seems like a huge deal. That’s a direct line to Krypton. You came here in that thing.”

Clark considered their words and looked at each of them patiently. He was grateful that they were considerate of his feelings and cognizant of what his heritage meant to him. At the same time, however, he felt like it was just a ship. “This whole Fortress is a direct line to Krypton. Having thousands of years’ worth of knowledge and Kelex at my disposal is more than I could have ever dreamed of or asked for. And it’s not like I’m completely destroying my ship.”

Martha, being the more sentimental one in the Kent family, still held a soft, worried look. Lana nodded but eyed Clark uneasily. Even though she’d been here for hours now, being in the Fortress was still trippy. She truly felt as if she were on a different planet despite knowing she wasn’t and having human company. Her hand absentmindedly roamed over the side of the console, marveling at the smoothness of the crystal structure. Looking around the open space she saw that not all crystals were the same. Some of them were completely transparent like glass, but others were cloudy and opaque. There were almost no metal structures, save for parts of the training room and the machine forms that Kelex chose to take from time to time. Lana had a feeling those weren’t made from Kryptonian metals.

“Okay,” said Lana, half shrugging. “If you’re sure.”

Clark nodded. “Kelex, take any of the least useful parts of the ship and use them for the uniform. Only as much as you need.”

Kelex went right to work, giving them an estimated time of twelve hours before the suit would be completed. Clark made sure to keep the blanket that his biological mother made for him, setting it aside for Kelex to add it to the suit as its cape.

In the meantime, Clark, Lana and Martha decided to head back to Keystone City. After getting Mexican takeout for dinner, Clark flew Lana back to Central City so she could prepare for her follow up with the LuthorCorp Fellowship. By now she’d received responses from all of her post-grad options and had decided that she’d go with her first choice soon after graduation. Lana had already dealt with her finals but unfortunately hadn’t been able to rest since orientation for the LuthorCorp Fellowship was scheduled for this coming weekend. She didn’t really have much to do in terms of preparation, but she was still anxious.

Being back in the apartment, without Clark this time, gave her a chance to relax and think. She’d be moving to Metropolis soon with the Fellowship and would be working closely with several people she didn’t know. As daunting as that was, it was her biggest dream. Metropolis was her Mecca and one of the world’s main technology hubs. She counted herself lucky in so many ways, from being accepted to such a prestigious program to being in a relationship with someone who made long distance a non-issue. Very few people got their foot in the door in the realm of their career aspirations on the first try and so soon out of college. Moreover, they were flying her out there and then paying for her stay in such an expensive city for six weeks. Triple-checking that she had everything ready for the morning, Lana set her bags in the corner of her room and put an envelope containing her plane ticket and information regarding where she’d be staying in her jacket. She’d made the decision to stay rooming with Chloe for a little while longer despite now being done with college, so she made sure to leave her half of the next month’s rent. Going through her checklist one last time, her lungs expanded with a deep breath. She could not and would not screw this up.

As Lana got ready for bed, she received a text message from her boyfriend.

_Good luck tomorrow. Night :)_

Lana smiled sleepily and wished him a good night in response. It was early for her, but a long day and early flight the next morning had her asleep within minutes.


	7. An Unfathomably Large Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lana takes the first step after graduation: orientation for the LuthorCorp Fellowship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted a Lana-centric chapter, and I think this will work well with the overall story. Enjoy :)

Lana was early for orientation, perhaps too early. Punctuality was important to her, but it was weird finding herself the first person in the room after she was sent up to the 22nd floor. It made her anxious, worrying if she’d somehow made a mistake. The conference room was long with a huge table, comfy chairs and floor-to-ceiling windows. The front wall was all glass but soundproof, allowing Lana to look into the rest of the gigantic, impeccably styled office space.

Her flight had left at eight that morning. She hadn’t told Clark, but she was pretty nervous about the whole thing and was internally freaking out from the moment she got out of bed until after the plane took off. She’d only flown once before, and even though it had been a smooth ride she hadn’t exactly been eager to do it again. Eventually, after reading a little, she calmed down long enough to take a nap and ended up sleeping until just before the plane landed.

Ever the minimalist, she’d only packed a large suitcase and a medium-sized duffel bag for her extended stay. Living on her own in college, Lana was able to evaluate exactly what she needed and took only what she used all the time (except for accessories, which, now that she thought about it, she probably over-packed just a little). She just hoped that after all she would be doing with the Fellowship she would get a little down time to explore the city.

The cab drive from the airport to where she was staying was captivating. She’d never seen so many tall buildings and types of architecture crammed into one place, even on the outskirts. Most of Metropolis seemed to be big and bright, even from a distance, and Lana immediately loved it. To her, it was like looking into the future and seeing exactly what you hoped for.

Lana had only spent a few minutes in the complex that would be housing the eight fellows. It was exclusively owned by and for LuthorCorp, housing those who were of special interest and consideration to the company. The building itself wasn’t particularly tall or crowded, but Lana did see a fair amount of people in the lobby. Most of them were considerably older than her, looking more like foreign business ambassadors than college graduates. Occasionally she’d see a person in plainclothes, which served to intrigue her more than the well-dressed patrons. Maybe they were scientists and engineers who worked for LuthorCorp. Maybe they were businesspeople in disguise. Maybe they were lost. Lana chuckled to herself. The novelty and uncertainty of everything around her made her nervous, but she was enjoying it too.

After awkwardly checking in with the man at the front desk (and going through a thorough security check), Lana was on her way to her room. She was surprised to find when looking at the building’s directory in the elevator that the layout of each floor was totally different from the next, going from apartment-spaces to hotel-style double rooms to office spaces. Lana’s reserved space, which she’d be sharing with three other people for the next several weeks, was on the sixth floor.

There was evidence that other fellows had arrived before her. A few small bags and papers were visible, but no other people seemed to be present. Lana stayed only to drop off her stuff and make sure she looked presentable. A light green blouse, form-fitting white high rise dress pants and comfortable flats felt like the way to go (with some mascara, a little blush, and some jewelry here and there because those never hurt). Leaving again with a small bag of essentials and a notepad, she’d made her way to LuthorCorp Tower.

Now, sitting in the large room and waiting for whoever else was going to show up, Lana surveyed her environment and noted how expensive and bold everything looked. Lana didn’t know much about business, but she’d kept up with the current events regarding the industry in which she was so interested and did her research. She knew LuthorCorp had started as a relatively small aerospace engineering firm but over the last decade it had bloomed into a multinational conglomerate in record time. Most of its acquisitions were related to engineering and infrastructure, but in the last month they’d acquired a small pharmaceutical company and an agriculture firm as well. Everything in Lana’s line of sight was designed exactly as she’d pictured it would be: serious, subdued colors and décor without any relegation to the standard blacks and whites. It was obvious to her that nothing at LuthorCorp was done without a reason, and the more Lana observed the more she felt like a fish out of water. Or better yet, a small fish in an unfathomably large ocean.

Stiff legs carried her over to the large windows on the far wall overlooking the city to the north. Some distance away Lana could see one of the most famous landmarks in the country, illuminated in the golden sunlight of early afternoon: the Daily Planet building. Momentarily forgetting her anxiety, she scrambled to capture a photo of it with her phone so she could send it to Clark. She then looked out to the far right, where she could see the bay. Lana had almost forgotten about the city across it, and for a moment she was grateful. It was faint, but even from this distance that place looked odd, like it was dark even in the daytime. It gave her chills as if she were looking at a haunted house. Lana scoffed at the thought. Sure, Gotham City had its reputation but it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

Clark responded a minute later gushing about how cool the picture was, and she couldn’t help but laugh to herself. Checking the time and seeing that there were fifteen minutes left until orientation was scheduled to start, Lana decided to take her seat again facing the glass wall closest to the inside office.

She immediately froze. On the other side of the glass were four people, three of whom she recognized immediately. Two men and two women were walking down the hallway: one tall, severe-looking woman at the front, the two men shoulder to shoulder just behind her and the last woman a few steps behind them. The front three were the Luthors (Lillian, Lionel and Alexander, who everyone called Lex), but the last person Lana could not place. The Luthors were insanely famous, for obvious reasons, and because of that Lana was positive that she _wouldn’t_ be seeing them at all. Yet, here they unmistakably were, right in front of her.

Lillian was impeccably dressed in burgundy and black with her dark red hair in a tight bun. She looked exactly how she did in interviews and tabloid pictures: perfectly poised with a look that could kill. Lana appreciated and admired women that were strong and took no bullshit in a sexist male-dominated world, but something told her that Lillian was a bit more austere than she needed to be. Her scowl looked permanent.

Lionel was much taller than she’d thought he’d be. From where she was sitting it looked like he was as tall as Clark. He was wearing a navy suit with a white shirt and striped gray necktie. His hair was long and curly, a dark brown but flecked with white here and there. The billionaire’s face held a thoughtful expression at something his son was telling him, giving him a stern look belied by the deep laugh lines around his eyes. As if to emphasize them, he chuckled suddenly and nodded to Lex, eliciting a smirk from his son.

The younger Luthor male was only an inch or two shorter than his father, with lighter hair cropped short but long enough so that you could see his curls. It was a reddish brown, more like Lillian’s, and the piercing look in his eyes that seemed to be his default was his mother’s as well. He wasn’t wearing a full suit like Lionel was. He’d foregone the jacket and instead wore only a light blue dress shirt with the top unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up. Unlike his father’s, Lex’s smile didn’t meet his eyes.

The woman behind the three Luthors intrigued Lana differently than the others had. She was star-struck at first. Now she was curious. Lionel, Lex, and Lillian all looked similar, but the person bringing up the rear didn’t look much like any of them. Her hair was the darkest of all of them, black as a night with no stars. In stark contrast was her skin, white and pale enough that her cheeks were naturally tinged a bit pink. The others were light-skinned but not nearly as pale.

Lana was positive that the woman was younger than her, though it seemed not by much. She hadn’t heard about any other members of the Luthor family after Lex, who was three years older than her. Still, the young woman, though trailing behind, was definitely with them. The last thing Lana noticed was her outfit, which was devoid of any color unlike the others. She wore a white ruffled blouse with a plain black pencil skirt. Her black heels were not nearly as high as Lillian’s, but definitely noticeable.

The four of them entered the room in which Lana was waiting, and she scrambled to look presentable and professional. Lillian noticed her immediately and stiffened minutely, which caught Lana off guard. She wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been looking, but since she had, it put Lana on her guard as well. Lex on the other hand walked in behind his mother, calm and casual. Lionel had held the door open for the rest of them and was now whispering something to the young woman that made her smile softly. She nodded to him as he closed the door. Lana knew she should say something, but she was completely at a loss for words. Luckily, Lex broke the silence for her.

“You must be one of the new fellows,” said Lex, his voice smooth and clear. He walked over while extending his hand. “Hi, I’m Lex.”

Lana nodded and shook his hand. “I’m Lana. Lana Lang.” Her voice came out much higher than it normally did and she couldn’t stop her eyes from shifting from person to person. The room suddenly felt crowded.

“Lana Lang?” repeated Lionel, turning to face her fully. His voice was commanding without being too loud. A smile touched his face. “Wonderful. As I’m sure most have figured out, we have a certain fondness for alliterative ‘L’ names.”

Lana chuckled nervously. Lillian had gone to the far side of the room close to the windows and produced a small tablet from her purse. She began typing and swiping with her fingers frantically, effectively excluding herself from conversation. The fourth of the group set herself against the wall behind Lex and Lionel, staring out the window and absentmindedly playing with her hands.

“You’re early,” Lionel continued amiably, checking his watch. “We’ve got a little over twelve minutes before we start.”

“I was a bit nervous,” said Lana with a shaky laugh, looking between the two men. Lex smiled back warmly. “I didn’t want to create the possibility of being late.”

Lionel gave her an impressed look. “Very interesting choice of words, Miss Lang. I applaud your forethought and ownership of potential consequences.”

“Um, thank you, sir.”

Lex took a seat right off the corner of the long conference table, leaning against the arm rest and spreading his legs a little, totally relaxed. Lionel remained standing and checked his watch again.

“Where’s Jacoby?” muttered Lionel to no one in particular. Lex answered without looking at him.

“He was fired last week for a very long homophobic rant on social media.”

Lionel nodded in remembrance. “Right, yes. Good. Well that means Miss Graves is head of the R&D department now and therefore should be here to lead orientation. Frankly, it’s a bit alarming that there are only two people here even if it is early.”

Lillian walked back over to Lionel, still holding her tablet, and whispered something in his ear. He sighed dejectedly and pursed his lips in response, then shrugged. Just then a tall East Asian woman made her way into the room in a huff, carrying a bag and a stack of small packets. She smiled cordially at everyone before setting her charges on the table. The mystery woman Lana hadn’t officially met yet seemed to perk up at the sight of new company.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear,” said Lex with a smirk. “Or maybe guardian angel in this case.”

The woman gave him a knowing look and smirked in return. “With a halo and everything,” she responded. With a short wave of her hand she greeted the other woman still leaning against the wall. “Hey, Lena.”

Lena smiled shyly and waved back. “Hey, Mercy.”

Lana took the time to turn off her phone and get herself ready, taking a seat at the table two down from Lex. Miss Graves set up her laptop and distributed the packets to the empty spaces around the table while talking to Lionel. Apparently some of the other fellows were on their way up now.

“Perfect,” said Lionel. “Lillian just informed me that one declined the offer and will be taking up another one. Rather short notice but better we don’t have anyone less than professional, don’t you agree?”

Lena walked over and took her seat across from Lana as three more people walked into Lana’s line of sight, stopping behind the glass wall to peer inside. They looked to be just as star struck as Lana had been, searching around the office and probably hesitant to walk in for fear of entering the wrong room and leaving a bad impression. Eventually they did come in and were greeted warmly by Mercy (who introduced herself as Mercedes) and the Luthors (stoically by Lillian).

Lana surveyed the others quickly in a very awkward silence that had no effect on the Luthors. Not having much to go on, she didn’t make many assumptions but noted how different everyone looked. If she found out later that any two of them were from the same place, she’d be shocked. The last two fellows came in with a few minutes to spare, and orientation began.

Lana paid rapt attention as Mercedes skillfully led her presentations and explained the Fellowship in detail, but she was also painfully aware of the Luthors, who had taken seats at the back of the room. Lena had remained in her seat across from her, which confused Lana. She seemed to be another fellow just like her, but had arrived with the Luthors. Nothing about her screamed “Luthor,” but then she knew the director of LuthorCorp’s R&D department by name. Lana shook her head, hoping to clear it like an Etch A Sketch. Curiosity always got the better of her but now wasn’t the time to let her mind wander.

The bulk of the fellowship involved the fellows assisting with all parts of the research and development processes of an assortment of projects from initial drafting to paper publication. Of course, there would be a lot of shadowing and a crash course in industry procedure, too. Lana buzzed with excitement at all the new and detailed information. Everything she heard sounded incredible.

The fellows’ first tasks were to read over their packet, sign the agreements, and then peruse a particular article and part of a paper in the _International Journal of Robotics Research_ for Monday. After the signed agreements were collected, the fellows were personally addressed by Lionel Luthor in conclusion of orientation. He commanded their attention, wishing them well but stressing the importance of dedication and hard work in the forthcoming weeks, which were not going to be easy. All fellows were surprised to meet and be addressed by any Luthor directly, but even more surprising was the invitation for an early dinner that Lionel and Lillian extended to all the fellows. Mercedes had prior engagements, but everyone else was set to meet again in three hours.

After the group dispersed, Lana turned her phone back on and immediately texted Clark, gushing over everything that had happened. One thing she loved about him was that he almost always matched her enthusiasm in such cases, even if they both knew he was pretending. She didn’t think he was pretending this time, though, because before she’d left to Metropolis he’d done just as much research as she did about LuthorCorp and called her up to animatedly recite their accomplishments. Lana’s heart swelled knowing he was happy for her, and that she was so happy for herself. With a bounce in her step, she made her way back to her shared LuthorCorp-sponsored apartment.

Some of the other fellows went back to the building with Lana, so she found out who her roommates were going to be. Admittedly, she’d already had a list of their names that was emailed as part of preparation but she’d been more focused on everything else to remember them. Originally there had been four people assigned to the apartment space, but the one who had rescinded their RSVP was one of them so now Lana only had two other roommates, both of which were now with her. One of them was the tallest of the group of fellows, a dark-skinned woman with curly black hair and a bright, lopsided smile. She’d been the only person besides Lana to routinely ask question during orientation, where she’d introduced herself as Takeia. Lana’s other roommate was Lena.

Takeia was the most talkative, and held conversation with her fellow flatmates all the way up to their apartment. Lena would contribute from time to time, but Lana could tell she was more comfortable staying quiet. Once in the apartment, the three of them had settled in a bit more and Takeia opted to shower and relax before they headed out again. This left Lana and Lena alone in the small living area on opposite sides of the long couch.

Both of them were on their laptops, sitting in silence. Lana had wanted to read at least a little of their assignment before going to dinner, but after reading the abstract she knew that she would need more energy to get through it than she currently had. Looking over to the other side of the couch, Lana let her curiosity get the better of her this time. She saw Lena sitting cross-legged with her computer in her lap and the top two buttons of her blouse undone. Peeking out from under it was a necklace and hanging pendant. It was circular, silver, and only slightly larger than a half-dollar coin. An intricate design played across it in what looked like four interlocked symmetrical swirls oriented in an X pattern, but from that distance it was a bit hard to see any more details. On the brightly lit screen Lana found the last thing she’d expected to see – a chessboard.

Lena peered at her screen with bored, lidded eyes and sighed. Her right hand drifted lazily over the mousepad, making another move every so often. Lana stared, fixated on the other girl’s screen.

“Do you like chess?” Lena said suddenly. Lana was so unprepared for her to speak that she jumped in surprise.

“Uh, sure. Recreationally, I guess.”

Lena looked at Lana out of the corner of her eye. Her mouth twitched. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re staring pretty hard.”

“Sorry,” said Lana. In most cases she wasn’t nervous when meeting new people, but something about Lena was unnerving. Not in a bad way, but the way one feels when coming across something one had never seen before. “I actually enjoy Checkers more. You look like you’re pretty good.”

Lena’s lips pulled up just enough for Lana to register a smirk. She met Lana’s eyes. “It’s ‘cause I am. I kind of feel bad for this guy. I can tell he’s had some experience, but he’s out of his depth.”

Lana raised an eyebrow, glancing at the online chess forum up on the screen. Back at LuthorCorp, Lena had seemed reserved and withdrawn when she came in with the Luthors. Now, Lana was pleasantly surprised to see the bold confidence under it. She looked a bit more relaxed than she was at orientation, and Lana decided to take her chances at further conversation.

“When did you get here?” asked Lana tentatively. Lena continued to play. “I thought I was early as hell, but you were there before me and already chumming it up with the Luthors.”

“Landed in Metropolis last night,” Lena answered slowly, running her hand through her hair. “Got up early to drop in and say hi. My mom…used to be an employee there, so I know some of them.”

Lana eyed the chess player warily. She didn’t think Lena was being entirely truthful, but figured she’d drop it for the most part. They’d only just met, after all. Lena turned to Lana and looked her full in the eyes. It wasn’t too intense of a look, but it still commanded attention, catching Lana off guard.

“This isn’t a case of nepotism, if that’s what you’re thinking. Believe me, I’ve had to jump through a shit ton of hoops to even be considered so it’s quite the opposite.” Her jaw clenched and her forehead creased as she turned her attention back to her match. Lana had to admit that the thought did cross her mind. Looking at her side profile, Lana was fascinated with the structure of her face. The juxtaposition of sharp lines and soft curves made it look like she was expertly carved from stone. Lana let her continue. “One would think being my age would bolster the application, not detract from it.”

Lena had grumbled that last bit to herself but it was just loud enough for Lana to hear it. Her question came out before it could be stopped. “How old are you?”

Lena’s eyes flitted over to her and then back to her screen just as quickly. She pursed her lips and answered. “Nineteen.”

“ _What?_ ” Lana knew she had to be younger than her, but she hadn’t expected her to still be a teenager. Lena’s expression turned uneasy, reminiscent of how she’d been earlier that day. Lana softened her tone. “Sorry. But that’s incredible! You have to have a degree to be accepted into the fellowship, so that means –”

“That I already graduated from college, yeah. Did a Master’s program in Computer Engineering, specializing in Robotics at MIT. Didn’t take summers or winters off so it only took three years. I’ll be doing Nanotechnology next.” Lana gaped, open-mouthed at the dark-haired woman on the other side of the couch. “Ha! Checkmate.”

Lena sighed contentedly and closed her laptop after clicking out of the forum. Lana continued to stare. “So you’re some type of genius or what?” she teased.

Lena turned to face Lana diagonally, leaning against the cushions. A small smile played on her lips but her eyes held a distant look. “I don’t think that’s it. I just had the opportunity to learn and apply myself at my own pace. The public and even private education systems don’t normally allow for that to happen. Actually, they work to discourage it. But I think if they allowed kids to learn their own way then my case would be significantly less out of the ordinary.”

Lana considered her words briefly, then nodded in agreement. She remembered being bored in class many a time and had wished on several occasions for the teacher to move on more quickly or to teach something new and more interesting. “You’re probably right. But then we’d have to worry about the cost of college way sooner than we end up doing now.”

Lena closed her eyes and nodded, gritting her teeth. “And that’s a whole other problem.”

Lana chuckled, relaxing into the cushions. She watched Lena hands come together, rolling over one another, fingers tapping together. It was an odd move, but one she’d seen her do earlier just before orientation. Lana wondered if Lena worked just as much with her hands as she did with her mind. It was common for those who worked with their hands to develop unconscious movements like that. She’d noticed Clark had a habit of tapping his middle finger against his thigh when he was standing with his hands at his sides.

“Got that right,” said Lana. Lena put her feet down and stretched her legs out. She was barefoot, out of her heels since she’d gotten to the apartment. “How about we change that when we change the world, huh?”

Lena smiled fully this time and let out a small laugh. “Fuck yeah.”

Lana’s phone vibrated in her pocket and she immediately retrieved it to find Clark calling. Lena was already opening her laptop back up, effectively ending the conversation, so Lana walked to the kitchen.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” she answered.

_“Hey. Just wanted to hear your voice. I’m hanging out in the Fortress breaking in the new suit. It’s pretty great, I gotta say. Super comfortable.”_

“Very nice,” she drawled in a low voice. “I bet it looks great too. Send me a picture when you get the chance.”

_“Hmm. Naughty.”_

Lana burst out laughing. “Not like that...well, maybe later but not right now.”

_“I’ll consider it.”_

“Uh-huh.” Lana dropped her voice and paused, suddenly unsure of herself. She knew she was about to wade into uncharted territory soon, and as much as she welcomed it she needed some form of consistency to anchor it all. A question escaped her lips. “Can you come to Metropolis tomorrow? It’s my last free-ish day before things start to get serious here so…I kind of need to see you again. To, you know…tide me over till the next time.”

_Of course. Text me when you’re free tomorrow and I’ll be there in ten._

The rest of their conversation was short. After Takeia finished her bathroom routine Lana had decided to freshen up as well. Lena, in the meantime, won another game of chess and then switched her shoes to join them.


	8. Supersonic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark saves a plane.

The group of ten reassembled at a small Italian bar and restaurant six blocks from LuthorCorp Tower. Lana was grateful that the place wasn’t too upscale. She’d been out of her element enough today and anything more she might not have trusted herself to handle. The Luthors were only slightly more casual than they had been a few hours before (except for Lillian, who had replaced her blouse and skirt ensemble with a dark blue cocktail dress, so about the same). Though the fellows were, understandably, nervous to be in such a setting with the famous trio, it didn’t take long for Lionel and Lex to take the edge off with lighthearted chatter.

The venue was decently sized and not very packed, allowing for lots of space between tables. They’d put three of them together to fit all the fellows, specifically to accommodate one named Geraldo, who was in a wheelchair and had insisted that everyone called him Gerry. Oddly, it didn’t seem to sit well with some of the staff. Lana figured that being as famous and rich as they were, the Luthors were not denied something very often. Though in this case, it would’ve also been in poor taste not to accommodate a disabled person, so really, what were they going to do?

Without the stress and expectations of orientation or being in any other professional setting, Lana was much more relaxed and able to remember everyone’s names this time. Aside from her and her new roommates were: Gerry, who was rather lighthearted with tanned skin, wavy black hair, and glasses; Sitara, an Indian woman with three piercings in each ear, an extensive vocabulary, and bangs; Daron, who was rather short and had a booming laugh while also an angry-looking resting face; and Margaret, who was Korean, had a slight accent and a penchant for dirty jokes. All of them seemed to mesh well for the most part, though everyone did not contribute to the conversation equally. Lionel, Takeia, and Gerry talked the most, with Lex and Sitara interjecting frequently. Lillian, Daron and Lana didn’t offer much in the way of new subject matter but did offer responses time to time. Lena and Margaret talked the least.

When the group finally did get their food, talking slowed but didn’t halt in any way. Lana enjoyed how personable the Luthors were. They had a decent reputation bolstered by good press, but it was another thing entirely to witness it for yourself.

“Wow, this soup is great,” said Gerry halfway through. “Not as good as my boyfriend’s _sancocho_ , though, but still pretty great.”

Lana snorted and swallowed a bite of pasta. “Is anything as good as _sancocho_ though?” she smirked. It had been a while since she’d had some, but it had immediately cemented itself as one of her top five favorite dishes once she’d tried it. Chloe had taken her to a Latin restaurant in Central City last year and in the month following she’d ordered it six more times.

Gerry laughed and nodded, nudging Lena who was sitting on his left. “See, she knows.”

Lena nodded with an amiable expression and dug into her chicken salad. Lionel, always commanding attention, gestured to the television screens mounted above the bar a few yards away and had everyone looking. Most had some sports game on, but there was one that was playing the news. Lana saw a story about an airplane, but was bummed that she couldn’t hear it from where they were sitting. Lionel rectified that problem.

“See that plane over there?” said Lionel. “That is a joint project between Boeing and LuthorCorp. Some of you may have heard about it, some may not have, but I want all of you to internalize this. This aircraft is a supersonic transport designed to carry civilian passengers or cargo while being as fuel efficient as possible. I’m sure you all can extrapolate the implications of having something like this at one’s disposal. It took several years to get through the negotiations between LuthorCorp and Boeing to even greenlight this project and longer still to reach the finished product you see here. Today it took its maiden flight from New York City and will be landing here in Metropolis within the next half hour or so. The whole point of this fellowship is to bring ingenuity, ambition, and a diversity of experiences from young and old minds alike together so we can make masterpieces like _that._ Hopefully one day each of you will have a venture with your name on it.”

Having done her research beforehand, Lana had heard about the project. She stared at the television. All the work and study she’d done in college had given her what she needed to get here, but she’d be lying if she said she felt prepared. The vastness of the unknown future laid itself out in front of her and on the horizon she saw a bright spot, a goal she’d been holding onto since her first science fair. Money and fame weren’t something she’d considered when so young (though now they didn’t seem so bad), but _influence_ was everything to her. Even in grade school she’d been privy to the lack of influence she’d have first as a kid and then as a woman in the current world in which she lived. So when Lana built a small radio in sixth grade, eyes alight with focus and spirit, she told herself that one day she’d do something big enough to change the world. Now, she told herself she’d do something even bigger than a supersonic transport capable of sending food, medicine and supplies to disaster victims with unprecedented swiftness or just minimizing flight time.

Lana looked across the table at Lena. She had the same determined look in her eyes. The crease in her brow and tensed jaw were accentuated by the slight curve of her lips, giving her a look that radiated dominance and a certain passive comfort with power. Then it was gone, fading into an expressionless face as Lena went back to eating.

********************

The editor-in-chief of the Daily Planet was not particularly fond of having a messy office or an even messier desk, but a busy workday had a way of throwing a wrench into what he wanted. Perry White checked his phone and left his mess of an office reading a text from his husband asking if he’d be home in time for a late dinner. He replied that he would.

Perry had called a meeting earlier and now, making his way to the conference room closest to his office, he regretted that idea and chastised himself for not waiting until tomorrow morning. Most of tomorrow’s paper had already been put together, but it was always better to know what would be in store for the next day ahead of time.

“What’ve we got, Ron?” said Perry, taking a seat at the head of the conference table. It was nice to see that everyone else had gathered before him for a change. The two overhead screens on the far wall were muted, playing the news from different channels but both showing coverage on the supersonic flight.

“New stuff? Not all that much actually, at least not anything big. Protests of the pipeline projects are already covered and Cat’s still out working the most recent school shooting story,” Ron answered, twirling a ballpoint pen through his fingers. He nodded to the screens. “Lois is still on the supersonic flight, of course.”

Perry clenched his jaw solemnly, nodding. One thing he hated about working in news for thirty years was how often he had to report the bad. There was always something awful going on, no matter how slow the day was. Even though there were beams of light every now and then, it was easy to feel like there weren’t. The same horrible things just happened again and again.

Perry sighed, moving on. “Steve, you’re still on sports. Cover the Monarchs day game tomorrow against the Knights and see if you can get an interview with Julius Reyes. He’s hot right now.”

“Got it,” said Steve automatically. “Hopefully we’ll sweep Gotham.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Lombard. Maria, where’s your piece on the president’s meeting with the Canadian prime minister?”

Maria Castela scribbled in her notepad. “In the Dropbox, Mr. White. I emailed you a few other stories I found that might be newsworthy as well.”

“Great. I’ll take a look.” Perry surveyed the room. They were all restless, including him, itching to either go home or hunt for the next story. He figured he’d cut this short after a little brainstorming session. “Speaking of which…anybody else have stories you want to run by me? And I mean good ones, not the filler stuff. We’re overflowing with that already.”

Steve perked up immediately. “Rebecca Carstairs just got engaged. Second time in as many years.”

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

“A test run for Ferris Aircraft went awry in Coast City and a pilot went missing,” said Josef Shuman.

“Hmm, might have been more newsworthy if it weren’t on the other side of the country. If nothing else comes up, it’s an option. Next.”

Ron Troupe spoke up again this time. “This year so far is the first time Gotham’s crime rate has decreased since 1996. On an unrelated note, there have been more sightings of a mysterious “Monster Man” in Gotham too.”

Perry smirked at Ron, who joined him. “Get more info on the crime statistics then run it by me again. Drop the Big Foot angle.”

“You sure? I always wanted to get into cryptozoology.” Ron’s only answer was a dramatic eye roll from Perry. “Okay fine.”

Perry shook his head, exhausted but in a good mood. He looked around the room again. “That everything?”

Nobody answered, so he took that as a yes. He nodded to himself, winding his mind down to start the end of the day. “Okay, great,” said Perry. “We all know what to do. If your normal shift is over you can go, and if not –”

Perry’s tired brown eyes flitted over the screens again and stopped. There was a breaking news banner playing across them, and he immediately grabbed the remote control on his side of the table to unmute them. The rest of the room turned to the screens to find an anchorman relaying the news.

“ _–have just received word that the maiden flight of Boeing and LuthorCorp’s L707 supersonic airliner is experiencing a midair emergency. Reports say that upon its descent the aircraft hit a flock of birds at 24000 feet, causing it to lose both engines. Shrapnel from its left engine have damaged its wing and punctured the cabin…_ ”

********************

Lana and the others were split between two conversations taking place on opposite halves of the table. They weren’t loud but certainly animated, dipping heads low and leaning in to participate. Sunlight streamed in through the large windows despite it being after just after six, accentuating summer’s proximity and displaying Daylight Savings Time’s only perk. Lex and Lena were bathed in sunlight as the conversation went on and Lana felt lucky that she was sitting the opposite way, so that she wouldn’t have to deal with the glare.

Lionel was engaging the fellows closest to him with a story about an old business rival when Lex, sitting at his right off the head of the table, nudged him gravely. “Dad,” he said, pointing to the screens above the bar. “I think something’s wrong.”

Breaking news concerning the plane they’d talked of earlier was playing on the screens, and Lionel immediately got up to get closer. Lana, Lena and Lex followed right behind him with Lena stopping halfway to the bar, but it was close enough. They all heard what was going on.

Lionel excused himself to make a call while Lex and Lena stayed put, watching the news as if in a trance. Lana, with mind and heart racing, left the bar and headed straight to the bathroom, taking her phone out of her back pocket on the way. Nobody was inside, and Lana counted her blessings. She made a call.

*************************

Clark walked up to the edge of the platform where his ship rested, drinking leisurely from a water bottle. He and Kelex had built a makeshift refrigerator recently so he could keep some drinks and fruit cold in the Fortress in case he felt like eating. Technically, with the potency of the sun’s radiation and his ability to absorb it as nourishment, he didn’t need to eat. Having done it all his life, though, he continued to do so anyway.

His cape swung behind him, licking the back of his calves. He’d been in the suit for hours now, training or just hanging out in it to get used to how it felt. Clark had taken to it immediately, reveling in how the foreign materials felt and taking pride in the fact that he’d helped design it (down to the small sealed pockets, located on his lower back behind his erector spinae). His phone, which he’d put in one of them, began vibrating continuously, signaling a call. Clark took another sip of water and answered.

“Hey Lana, what’s up?”

_“Clark?”_

His whole body tensed, instantly registering the fear in Lana’s voice. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“ _There’s, uh…there’s a plane – a supersonic plane flying from New York to Metropolis. Both engines are blown out and there’s a hole in the cabin._ ” Clark could tell Lana was trying to keep cool, but her voice shook despite its strength. She started to ramble. “ _The left wing is damaged. It has to fall fast at first to make sure the passengers don’t lose oxygen b-but the flight pattern is unpredictable with part of a wing gone. Clark…there’s almost a hundred people in there and I don’t think that plane can land. You have to do something._ ”

Clark was silent for only a second, but a wealth of understanding flowed between them. With Lana’s tendency toward assertion and bluntness it was easy to overlook her capacity for empathy, but in times like these it showed. She was afraid for them and so was he, in addition to his worry over other things. There were so many logistical things he hadn’t figured out yet. They hadn’t talked about the implications of his decision in the context of their relationship or even what he thought his personal relationship was to humanity. But now there was no time to quell the fear, for himself or for those people. It was one thing to hear about disasters on the news; they were always over before you knew anything about them and even if you did there was nothing you could have done to stop it. For Clark it was different. Thanks to Lana, this time he had a chance.

“ _Please_ ,” she whispered.

“How much time do I have?” he asked, his voice taking on a clear, commanding tone mixed with an odd softness. It surprised even him.

_“If the plane suffers any more damage, not even a few minutes.”_

“Got it.”

Clark ended the call and retrieved his teleporter while returning his phone back to his pocket, at breakneck speed. He activated it, coming to stand in Martha’s living room in Keystone City a second later before leaving the device on the coffee table. No one was home, and he was glad that his mother had not been present to witness the abrupt intrusion. He moved to the window, which faced the alley behind the building, and opened it wide enough to slip through into the air high above the concrete. Shooting straight up into the sky over the city, he steadily gained speed and altitude until he was cruising in the higher half of the troposphere at three times re-entry speed. Clark felt his heart in his throat. He’d never gone this fast before.

Slowing as he reached the southwestern edge of Metropolis, he scanned the sky for miles to pinpoint the plane. He pursed his lips in frustration, using his x-ray vision to see through the mess of clouds. There were a couple of airplanes around, ascending and descending, but all seemed to be fine. Then he saw it – a white and green airliner falling at an awkward angle with half the left wing missing and the right engine still burning.

He x-rayed the cabin while making a beeline for the plane. There were injuries, some of them serious, but nobody was dead. The oxygen masks were down and the passengers were buckled down in their seats. Small miracles.

Unfortunately there were still three problems. The plane was already less than 10,000 feet above the ground, so there wasn’t much time. The hole in the left side of the cabin was big enough for a person to fit through, which would’ve been enough of a hazard even if it wasn’t affecting the plane’s ability to fly. Lastly, the plane had part of a wing missing. Coming up on the plane, Clark gritted his teeth at the difficult situation but figured he could kill two birds with one stone if he moved fast enough.

He climbed higher, shooting up to roll over and back down directly above the right wing of the plane. One short thin blast of heat vision severed most of it, and he dove to catch the back edge of the wing in his hands to tear it off. Rolling up and left again he dropped to synchronize his fall with the plane’s, carrying the end of the right wing. He overshot it a bit, stopping just in front of the large hole. Clark made the mistake of momentarily looking inside the cabin. Amid the yelps, screams and cacophony of hammering heartbeats, he heard gasps as well. Three people were now looking at him with complete incredulity: two older men in matching polo shirts sitting next to each other and a young woman sitting on the other side of the aisle next to them. She had long, dark straightened hair that was blowing partly in her face, and was wearing a navy business suit with a Daily Planet press pass clipped to the lapel. Her eyes were a dark brown and opened wider than Clark had ever seen a pair of eyes. The whole thing lasted for a second, but Clark chastised himself for the wasted time. He went back to work.

Clark pulled back, lining up the flat side of the wing fragment with the side of the plane. It was more than enough to cover the hole, and this time he used his heat vision softly, focusing more on heat than force to weld the metal in place. Clark huffed and nodded to himself absentmindedly, now left with one problem. The cabin pressure was now stabilized and the weight of the plane more evenly distributed, but it can’t stay horizontal with no engines and half wings. The cabin, which was already falling fast, fell into a nose dive and now he was doing the same.

He couldn’t just catch the plane from the front. The nose would crumple and he had no idea how much damage the inertia would cause. Pulling the plane at any point would cause pieces to rip apart. “Come on, Clark. Think,” he muttered to himself mid-dive.

Aligning his body with the plane, Clark skimmed the bottom of it with his back until he came to rest just under the nose. He tucked his head down and spread his arms out at his sides against the metal, flexing his wrists to keep himself in place. Leaning his back into the metal, he pulled his legs in and flew upward fast to give the fall some slope and level it out. The bottom of the cockpit crumpled inward a bit with the shape of his body, but it worked. The front of the plane began to fall more slowly than the back end, and Clark knew he had to be quick to avoid making the plane dive the other way. Keeping the plane horizontal would decrease its terminal velocity and minimize inertial damage. Falling into a somersault, he twisted upside down so that when he came up he was facing the other way, but now under the middle of the plane. He took a deep breath.

Clark spread his arms out again and this time added his legs, slowly flexing harder and harder as the plane fell to slow its descent while he pushed upward. _God, I hope this doesn’t break the plane in half,_ he thought to himself. Looking down, Clark’s eyes widened as he saw how far they fell. They were now high above the Delaware Bay, closer to Metropolis than to Gotham and way too low for his liking. He pushed harder.

Clark could hear the creaking of the metal as it crumpled around him. His heart slammed against his chest in a panic. What if he pushed too hard? If he tears a hole in the bottom with too much force the cabin would split. He couldn’t save two halves of a plane this low.

The whole plane began to slow considerably. The sound of bending metal ceased. He smiled broadly and laughed in exasperated relief, sliding off the bottom of the plane and letting it come to rest horizontally in the line of his outstretched arms with his head ducked in the classic Atlas pose. Several hundred feet above the water, Clark and the plane came to a stop.

Less than half a mile off the edge of the bay, Clark could see people gathering at the piers to watch the commotion. He looked around, making an effort to ignore the heartbeats and erratic breathing from inside the plane. He couldn’t just drop them anywhere, so he figured he’d take it to the airport, where it was supposed to be anyway. Luckily it was close. Metropolis International Airport was inland on the northwestern side of the city, beyond the more metropolitan areas.

Clark didn’t have much choice but to fly over the northern tip of New Troy, the island center and heart of Metropolis. He was high enough that he could hold the plane and avoid any of the tall buildings, which was more than enough to avoid being seen directly by anyone on the ground. The obvious thing, though, was the expected mass confusion when seeing a huge damaged airliner stop in midair and slowly float away. That in itself wasn’t much of an issue to Clark, but he still hadn’t exactly figured out what he was going to do when face to face with strangers that didn’t hold some type of societal authority. It would be more than shocking for them. What would he do? Say hi?

He didn’t have to worry much until he got to the runways at the airport. He’d ignored the sounds coming from the plane earlier, but now he tuned in. There was enormous chatter coming from the pilots as well as the communications towers around the airport. They were confused, terrified, and angry, and he’d definitely been spotted. Heart beating hard and fast, Clark felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. This was it, and he felt wildly unprepared. This wasn’t just a small rescue or a quick random act of kindness where he could disappear shortly after and nobody would remember him. He just saved a gigantic airplane with a bunch of people inside in broad daylight wearing a form-fitting red and blue suit. There was no coming back from this.

No other plane seemed to be landing just then, but as a precaution Clark decided to head over to the end of the runway away from all the jet bridges. The pilots were obviously paying attention because the wheels deployed as they got closer to the ground. Clark finally lowered the plane until the wheels came to rest on the pavement. He hadn’t asked Lana how she knew about the danger, but listening to the voices down the runway he could tell it had been on the news. There seemed to be correspondents and camera crews, some making calls to their respective stations and others running or driving closer to where he was. Clark flew around to the front of the plane. The pilot and copilot were frozen, eyes wide and transfixed on Clark’s floating form just outside the front windows. He smiled lightly, holding his hand up in a greeting, then pointed to the back of the cockpit. One of them stayed perfectly still and the other flinched. Clark sighed, raising his hands and eyebrows in placation. He slowly mouthed the words “please open” and pointed again.

This time the pilot turned to look at the cockpit door and then back at Clark. He could see all the emotions playing over her face as he slowly got up. Clark exhaled in relief and appreciation and flew back to the plug door. Reaching forward, he jammed his fingers through the metal and casually tore it off to toss it on the ground away from the plane. The evacuation slide deployed and inflated automatically, and the pilots came out of the cockpit to meet him. Clark was still floating.

People outside were coming up on the plane now, but Clark ignored them. Two flight attendants walked up to join the pilots and saw him, eliciting a similar response to the first two. All were female except the copilot, so Clark refrained from x-raying them to assess their injuries. To them it would probably seem like unabashed ogling, and that was not how he wanted to make his first impression.

“Are you all right?” Clark asked with an open expression. He landed in the doorway. Only one decided to answer, a short blonde flight attendant with red-painted nails. She nodded once quickly. Clark gave her a small smile.

“I, uh, know this has been scary and confusing,” said Clark, “but everything’s going to be fine. I promise. Mind if I get in here?”

The four in front of him now seemed to be looking at his uniform, all with different expressions. No answer came, so Clark just moved to nudge past them.

“What the fuck just happened here?” blurted the copilot suddenly. Clark whipped around.

Not sure how to respond, Clark went with the truth. “The plane got damaged, so I helped. Slowed the fall, then carried you guys here.”

A short awkward silence ensued. The copilot’s eyes darted around the space and his brow furrowed even further. He spoke again and the others looked between them oddly. “…right.”

Clark took a deep breath to calm himself and walked into the cabin. Some passengers were still seated, others were out and hugging people they knew, and a few more were standing in the aisle. His entry commanded most of their attention, and he received a wide range of reactions. Ignoring all of that, he opened up his body language and spoke slowly and clearly.

“Is everyone okay?” Many, surpisingly, answered with a shy nod or affirmative grunt. Clark scanned the area, x-raying everyone. Most were fine with some cuts and bruises, but there were also three people with concussions and a little girl with a broken ulna.

“Good. Now if I can have everyone exit the plane quickly and calmly, that’d be wonderful. You’ll need to watch your steps. The evacuation slide is out but you can still hurt yourselves if you’re not careful.”

Clark exited the plane and to his relief everyone followed. A small group of news people and runway workers were now gathered several meters from the edge of the slide, chattering. Clark tried to pay more attention to the passengers coming out, but the fact that he was floating in midair above them made him very aware that the cameras were trained on him. His jaw clenched in focus. The wind blew at his cape, and he was grateful that despite its thinness it was neither diaphanous nor particularly light.

Once everyone was out, including the flight attendants and pilots, Clark floated down and addressed one of the runway workers after separating the more injured passengers. “Most of these people are okay but they should get medical attention just in case. These three have concussions, so make sure they don’t fall asleep or do anything strenuous for a while. This one has a broken arm, so please be gentle.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” the runway worker responded, his eyebrows raised and hands picking at his vest. “Paramedics are already on their way.”

He was still nervous as all hell, but Clark could also feel himself gaining confidence with each passing second. He decided to roll with it. The passengers were all still milling around the same area, so he decided to speak with them.

“These guys will take it from here,” he said, gesturing to the runway workers in bright vests. Everyone on the runway was looking at him now, and suddenly he felt awkwardness mix in with the confidence. He looked around. Not sure what to do, he smiled softly. Always go with humor, right? “Now, uh…I hope this incident hasn’t put any of you off flying. Statistically speaking, it’s still the safest way to travel.”

“Thank you!”

The words came from the little girl with the broken arm, now leaning against her mother a few yards away and holding her arm gently. She wasn’t a baby, but definitely younger than ten years old. Clark couldn’t help smiling, and gave her a wave. She waved back. “You’re very welcome,” he replied.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Clark began to float away. The correspondents huddled a ways away from the congregation of passengers began to bombard him with questions as the paramedics pulled up. One question stood out above the rest, and he stopped to answer it. Only after looking back down did Clark realize that it had come from one of the passengers. The woman he’d seen earlier with the navy suit and the Daily Planet press pass was looking back at him expectantly.

“Who are you?” she’d asked.

Clark’s first instinct was to give his name – his Kryptonian name – but something told him that wasn’t the way to go. He obviously couldn’t give his human name, either. A thought came to mind. He didn’t want to impose a view of himself onto humanity, but at the same time he was being given a chance to control his own narrative, which was something most people weren’t allowed to do. This wasn’t the time for a full-fledged explanation. Yet, an answer was imperative. So, who was he?

“A friend.”

********************

Lana couldn’t stop smiling. A small part of her was sorry they didn’t have more time to prepare for Clark’s coming out, but boy, this was a hell of an entrance. Despite the confusion, news outlets were quickly informed of the plane’s miraculous recovery and now it was plastered on every channel. At some point, reporters had gotten close enough to get a shot of Clark at the airport, though he’d been up in the air at the time. Lana wasn’t sure if Clark did it on purpose or not, but none of them got that good of a look at him despite being so close. They’d gotten his back in high resolution, but not much more than his chin from below or the side of his face when he was on the ground.

The sun was starting to set and almost everyone in the restaurant was on their feet, huddled by the bar to watch the news. Lana and the other nine of her party were clustered in the middle. She was standing between Lex and Lena, who she now noticed had very different expressions. Lena was a mess of confusion, mouth agape and brow creased so that her eyebrows weren’t level. She was absentmindedly holding the pendant at her neck in her fingers, skimming the tips over the grooved design. Lex’s face was an open canvass of wonder, eyes wide and brows raised. Just barely, Lana could hear him breathe a word. “Remarkable.”

******************

Perry and the others stared at the televisions in the conference room, flummoxed. Just minutes before, the editor-in-chief was sure that one of his most promising reporters was about to die, and now everything was okay thanks to the appearance of a colorful flying man. What the fuck was going on? People didn’t fly.

Contrary to all logic, there it was on camera. Steve looked around the room. “Everybody else is seeing this, right? I’m not tripping balls?”

Nobody answered him, and instead Perry whipped out his phone to call Lois. He’s known the footage was real because he’d seen her there in the crowd on the runway. The room looked to him. She picked up after two rings and he put the phone on speaker before laying it on the table.

“Lois? Are you all right?” asked Perry tentatively.

“ _Hey, Perry. Yeah, I’m good. Just a couple bumps and bruises. No biggie. I’m assuming you’re watching the news?_ ”

“Yep. Everybody’s here. You wanna tell us what the hell we’re seeing?”

“ _Well so far it looks like a man who can literally fly and catch a damn plane falling out of the sky, so…nothing anyone’s ever seen before. I’m still freaking out, obviously._ ”

Perry nodded absentmindedly, then shook his head realizing she wouldn’t be able to see him nodding over the phone. “Did you get a good look at him?”

“ _Somewhat. I wasn’t that close to him any point but I did see him briefly as he was saving the plane and a bit after. He’s cute.”_

“Focus, Miss Lane.”

“ _Okay, fine. Dark hair, light skin, chiseled features…maybe six-two? Not too sure, he was up in the air most of the time. The cameras here were trained on him, didn’t they get a good shot?”_

“Not really.”

“ _Of course not_.”

“We just see him mostly from the back and a little from the side. I was hoping you’d gotten full frontal.”

“ _Interesting choice of words. Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures on my end and he left a little while ago. All I’ve got is a bunch of unanswered questions, but I guess everyone else is in the same boat. When I asked who he was, all he said was ‘a friend.’ Which was, like, endearing but also really annoying._ ”

Ron chuckled. Perry leaned in over the table closer to the phone. “Okay. Anything else?” he said.

“ _Well, on the plane I saw him cover the hole in the cabin with something from the outside. Flying, obviously. Looking at it from the outside now it looks like part of the wing welded to the side of the plane to keep it in place. I have no idea how the fuck he did that. You think he carries a blowtorch around?_ ”

“Sure. Why not? That would be the least weird thing about him.”

“ _No kidding. I’m going to see if I can get my bags soon. I’ll head over there and help with the changes. It’s gonna be a long night._ ”

Lois hung up, leaving the conference room staring at the phone. Perry retrieved it, wondering when people had stopped saying “bye” when hanging up. She was right, though. A story like this was front page news, especially since it happened in Metropolis. This was a game changer right in their backyard. As much work as this was going to be, it was absolutely something the Daily Planet had to capitalize on. Every other news outlet would be covering this, and getting the jump on it was essential both in print and online.

“Okay,” commanded Perry. “I’m sure all of you know what we have to do. I want all hands on deck covering this or getting information in some way, shape, or form. Interview the passengers, the pilots, the runway workers, anybody and everybody. Check social media. Talk to Boeing and LuthorCorp – it was their plane. Get the full scoop on the damage and find everything you can on this man in the sky. Let’s move.”

The room dispersed immediately and he followed them out, taking a deep breath. Perry texted his husband. He wasn’t going to make it home for dinner.


	9. Something More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lana spend some time together; Lex and Lena have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter of fluff. Things'll be picking up soon...

During Faora’s interrogation of Dev-Em, Zod had headed off to question the other prisoners. He’d found the cells on the other side of the ship devoid of Martians, while lacking a scout pod. They must have realized at some point that they could use their abilities again, being out of the Phantom Zone, and capitalized on it. Zod considered himself lucky they’d opted for stealth, even if he did have a plan to deal with them. The more easily this voyage went, the better. Dealing with the Tamaranean went quickly and smoothly, much to his surprise. The bulky, orange-skinned prisoner was grateful to be released, and took a pod for himself immediately after it was offered. That left the Daxamite in Faora’s charge.

Now, Faora stood in the doorway of the captain’s quarters, brow furrowed in equal parts contemplation and confusion. She couldn’t believe Zod had taken Dev’s offer and agreed to his terms. After he told her about his encounter with the Coluan – all of it this time – she couldn’t help but feel like he was being too hasty. Time was of the essence, but she was wary of Dev-Em. He did not seem like one to be easily manipulated.

Jax, of course, took the news of the new partnership horribly. General Zod put him in his place immediately, but Faora knew better than to expect Jax to be cordial and cooperative despite the general’s stringency. So for the time being Jax was in the armory, having been ordered to take stock of all weaponry and make sure everything was in good shape. He loved weapons, so it was easy to appease him in the short term while Dev went about building a phantom drive. That left Faora alone with Zod.

< _This still troubles you?_ > asked Zod in a low voice from inside the room. He sat at the edge of the cot looking up at Faora.

< _I do not trust him, General._ >

Zod smiled. < _I would be worried if you did. He is a means to an end and no match for the three of us should he try to renege. The sooner we make it to Earth, the better._ >

< _Because of the Coluan?_ > Faora knew better than to insinuate that he was motivated by fear, but the thought did flicker across her mind. Granted, this could not have been just some average Coluan. Despite Krypton’s strict and unyielding policies against immigration and emigration, having extensive knowledge of other worlds and peoples was common. Any non-Kryptonian was deemed as some sort of threat, so that kind of information was lumped in with mandatory military training. The difference in appearance that Zod described would have probably unnerved her as well, but Faora worried about the general’s motivation. She, like him, wanted a new Krypton, made better and stronger than their flawed home. But should it come at the request of an outsider? What if following that course of action played into the Coluan’s hands and somehow left them vulnerable?

< _Because of Krypton, Faora._ > Zod motioned for her to come inside. She did. < _The Council destroyed our home in their misplaced tenacity, but we have the chance to make a new one. I will not waste it._ >

< _Even if it’s exactly what he wants?_ >

< _We will deal with that in due time. Earth will give us extraordinary abilities and have us at less of a disadvantage. Until then Dev-Em will continue to build the phantom drive from parts of the ship. >_ Zod stood up and walked closer, looking her over.

< _Dru…_ > Faora began. She wanted to continue but decided against it when she looked him in the eyes. There was a cold challenge mixed in with the neutral softness that was reserved only for her. Sometimes, when she was this close to him, she’d forget that he was her superior officer. He did not.

 _< I need you to alter the healing chambers.>_ The general explained his plans at length for what seemed like the first time, and Faora was grateful. Living her life in the military chain of command, she knew that many times leaders kept things close to the vest, as she had with her subordinates. The fact that Zod had given her the whole plan, and not just the part for which he needed her, helped to quell her uneasiness.

 _< Can you do that for me?_> he asked.

Faora nodded. < _Of course_. >

*******************

The week following the miraculous save of the L707 airliner saw a steady stream of articles, social media posts, and broadcasts concerning Clark, who people called “The Flying Man.” Most mentions were of the conspiracy theory or hoax variety, especially overseas. International news outlets immediately expressed the view that the reports from witnesses in Metropolis were fake, citing the possibility of leaked Hollywood movie footage or just someone trying to “stir the pot” with doctored video. Granted, most of the footage regarding the incident wasn’t very clear, so it couldn’t be taken as concrete evidence in either direction. Regardless, the story was spreading like wildfire.

Clark hadn’t made another appearance in his colorful suit since then, but was now sporting his new glasses everywhere. He’d shaped them himself from Jonathan’s old pair of glasses that Martha had kept in remembrance of him, cutting a transparent crystal from the Fortress. Most of the past week Clark spent his time blogging, writing article-style news reports and opinion pieces on mostly social justice issues. It was important to him that news was accessible to the average person, especially when large media outlets allowed significant stories to fall to the wayside. People on social media had recently started to get good at this, and the only reason Clark hadn’t hopped on that wave was to reduce his internet footprint to only a few locations. The more and more he would do as this “Flying Man” the more scrutinized he would become, and the more he put out there as Clark, the more likely something could get traced back to him as the other guy. The prospect seemed difficult. Clark had only just found the fine line, and now he would have to walk it.

Lana, on the other hand, had absolutely no problem whatsoever sharing anything that had to do with him online or on social media platforms. She didn’t have many accounts, but she had surprisingly large followings on the few that she did. Well, maybe not so surprising to her, since she knew she was decently good-looking and had a nice balance of personal photos and weird posts with witty captions. Lana wasn’t one to post often, but the rate at which she did increased considerably after her boyfriend was caught flying on camera. Shared articles and blurry pictures of him interspersed with LuthorCorp Fellowship group selfies made up her recent posts, and on the whole she was excited. She’d asked Clark if it’d be a problem to post him from time to time and he’d said it wouldn’t, so Lana capitalized on that. She didn’t really talk much about him, but instead let the pictures and articles do it for her.

It was a week and a half later when Clark decided that he should go out again and make an appearance. He didn’t want to seem like he was hiding, or risk the attention going away because everyone thought it was fake. There was nothing else like this to go on, so people would just assume it wasn’t real due to lack of evidence. So he’d put on the suit and took a day to fly casually. He’d taken the teleporter to his mother’s place and, after an impromptu knitting session at her request, flew around the metropolitan areas of Keystone City before flying over Central City. He’d made sure he was going slowly and low enough for him to be seen, but not enough to be identified.

Clark had several hours of daylight to work with, so he made his way east. He took a path through many big cities, soaring over St. Louis, Cincinnati, Washington D.C., Metropolis, Gotham City, Philadelphia, New York City, Ivy Town, and Boston. It was fun; he took pleasure in flying for the sake of flying, without worrying about if people saw him or not. Clark felt free in a way he never had before. Arms stretched out and cape flapping behind him, he was all smiles as he made his way across the country.

Naturally, he continued to be mentioned on the news and was trending on social media. If he was being honest with himself, Clark enjoyed the attention. Putting on the suit was like becoming someone new while at the same time being exactly who he always was to the fullest. Being recognized for who he was felt nice.

The next few days he flew over the Atlantic and made his way over large stretches of Europe, Africa and Asia just because he could. At first, he flew with the intention of not making any direct contact with anyone but after a little while it became unavoidable. A handful of times there were problems that he felt required his immediate assistance, like fires, earthquakes and a derailed train. Clark didn’t want to insert himself too much into people’s lives too quickly, but immediate danger was where he made an exception. If he had the opportunity to save a person’s life or prevent them from getting hurt, he would take it. And he did.

 

Clark visited Lana her second weekend in Metropolis for a quick date, grabbing a bite to eat and then walking around midtown New Troy. He thought it was nicer seeing the buildings from the lower angle instead of from above as he had before. Listening to Lana’s progress with the fellowship so far, Clark found it obvious that she was enjoying herself and it was exactly where she belonged. He couldn’t help the secondhand excitement.

“It’s so difficult, but so fun!” gushed Lana on their way back to her building. “We crashed a robot testing its light-sensory reaction time. Well, it was mostly Gerry but we’re a team so it’s all of us. Not to toot our own horns or anything but we did get it down to half of what it originally was. Nah, screw it. I’m totally tooting. We’re awesome!”

Clark smiled and draped an arm around her shoulders as they walked. The sidewalk was crowded but it didn’t bother them. Lana put her arm around Clark’s waist and slipped a couple of fingers in one of his belt loops.

“It’s nice being able to do a bit of everything. Lena and I have a few ideas about making firefighter uniforms lighter but more durable with all the materials in the lab. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’m going to anyway because I’m too excited and you of all people can keep a secret. LuthorCorp actually invented this new material called Dilustel that has a super high melting point and is lighter than titanium. If we can find a cheaper way to manufacture it, then better protective gear is just the tip of the iceberg.”

Clark gave her an impressed look, intrigued. It sounded like LuthorCorp’s R&D department was a well-oiled machine churning out ideas left and right. Human innovation never ceased to amaze him, even after discovering he was an alien from a planet that was thousands of years ahead of Earth in terms of technological advancement. He hadn’t yet studied Krypton’s technology at length, but he wondered what he would think if he did. Would he provide people on Earth with some of that knowledge or keep it hidden?

Before he could answer Lana, Clark ran into someone head on. Not paying attention, he hadn’t softened himself to the blow so the man with whom he’d come into contact bounded off his chest and backed up a few steps. He was shorter than Clark but taller than Lana, looking disheveled and alarmed. Clark apologized for bumping into him.

“No worries, buddy,” said the man, putting his hands in his jacket. He looked around. “Hey, do you guys have a minute? I think I’m a little lost.”

“Yeah, sure,” Lana replied, looking at Clark and shrugging a shoulder. “Where are you trying to go?”

“Thanks! But let’s get off the sidewalk really quickly. I don’t want to be in anyone’s way.” The man smiled and looked around the crowded street before dipping into the adjacent alley. It was narrow, and didn’t allow for much sunlight. Clark and Lana followed.

“I’m trying to get to this address in Queensland Park. I have it on my phone.”

He’d stopped a few feet away from them, directly in front of Clark, and turned around. Expecting the man to retrieve a cell phone from his pocket, Clark was surprised and disappointed to find that the object the man had whipped out from his jacket was not one. Instead, it was a gun. Clark immediately moved Lana behind him as she gasped in surprise.

“Okay,” the man said, his face now serious. “You two seem like nice people. Cute couple. But I’m going to need your wallet and your small bag, missy.”

Clark pursed his lips in annoyance. He made to speak, but heard a sharp snorting sound from behind him. The man with the gun sported a confused look and Clark sighed. Lana was laughing, hard.

It went on for several seconds, and Clark had to concentrate to not crack a smile at the noise. “Lana, really?” he muttered. The other man looked dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, babe,” Lana wheezed, holding on to him. She swayed and came out from behind him. “It’s just…how many mirrors did this guy break to have this level of bad luck?”

She clenched her jaw and covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her giggles. The man waved the gun between them, looking considerably more nervous than he had a minute ago.

“Money, now! And nobody gets hurt.”

The man looked over their shoulders and then behind him frantically. Clark snatched the gun away from him before he could react.

“Okay, look,” said Clark, brows furrowed and voice deep. “Obviously this isn’t going to go the way you thought it would. Your best bet is to leave, but before that I want you to answer a question. Why are you trying to rob us?”

Both Lana and the other man looked at Clark, astonished. He continued to stare the would-be mugger down calmly, flipping the gun up and down in his hand a few times. “Answer me,” ordered Clark.

Instead of complying with Clark’s request, the man backed up a few steps. He was considerably smaller than Clark was and it seemed that without his weapon he wasn’t as confident in the current situation.

Clark stepped toward him. “Wait, just –”

On Clark’s part it was the wrong move. As soon as he moved, the other man turned and ran off around the corner on the other side of the alley. Clark sighed. Looking back at the gun in his hand, he grimaced, and then squeezed the muzzle and handle in his hands before crushing the whole thing into a small ball of metal.

“Well that was anticlimactic,” came Lana’s voice. She turned him to face back to her. “Why’d you stop and make conversation?”

Clark looked back at the empty expanse of the alleyway. The noise of the main streets bled inward and the hustle and bustle passed them by. “I don’t think he wanted to hurt us, not that he could anyway. I just wanted to see what he needed the money for. Maybe I could’ve helped him somehow.”

Lana softened and exhaled a sigh. She took his hand and led him out back onto the sidewalk. “Of course you did, babe.”

They were close to Lana’s building, so the rest of the walk back would be short. Clark dumped the metal he was holding into the garbage can at the corner.

“I never liked these things,” he said. In Smallville, guns were relatively commonplace, though they wouldn’t be seen often. There were only two gun shops in the whole town but to this day he’d never gone in either of them. “I came on a little too strongly earlier. Pretty sure I scared him.”

Lana snorted. “What gave it away? The terrified look on his face or the fact that he bolted?”

Clark gave her a look. “I was annoyed that he threatened you, even if you weren’t in any danger.”

“Not gonna lie, you did have this scary, hard look on your face. But I kind of like protective Clark. Your voice was all deep and authoritative. So hot.”

Clark chuckled, shaking his head. He’d gotten more used to Lana’s compliments, but his cheeks still felt warm. “I feel bad for the guy.”

Lana rolled her eyes at him fondly. It was a classic Clark thing to say.

 

Getting back into Lana’s LuthorCorp apartment, the two of them found themselves alone. Lana shucked off her shoes, surprised. She hadn’t known her two roommates would be out and so had asked before she left if it was okay for her boyfriend to stop by for a bit. On the kitchen counter they found a note from Takeia.

_Went shopping and catching a movie! Be back soon, don’t get dinner without me XO_

_\- Takeia_

“So we’ve got a few hours till Takeia comes back,” mumbled Lana absentmindedly. That left another woman. She called into the empty expanse of the apartment. “Lena? Are you here?”

Lana didn’t receive an answer. She looked at Clark. Catching her eye, he cocked his head to the side and listened before shaking his head. Lena wasn’t in the apartment either. Lana smirked to herself, letting her mind wander over the opportunities while Clark moved to the kitchen and washed his hands. He had a bit of gunpowder still on his fingers and was eager to get it off. Lana followed him.

“I’m going to take a shower. I’m all sweaty,” Lana declared, peeling her top of in one smooth motion and tossing it at her boyfriend. It hit him in the face and landed right on his shoulder. He gave her a look.

She was standing a few feet away from him wearing only black denim shorts, a pink bra, and a challenging expression. Her hands were on her hips. Clark smirked. “Okay, have fun.”

Lana raised an eyebrow, watching her boyfriend dry his hands and retrieve her shirt from his shoulder. “Oh, I plan to.”

“Do you, now?” Clark responded with a curious expression too open to be purely innocent. Lana nodded, smiling and turning to walk away from him.

She padded on bare feet a few steps and looked back over her shoulder as she reached the hall by the bathroom. “Aren’t you coming?” she called.

Clark chuckled to himself and made his way over to the bathroom.

One long shower and two orgasms later, the both of them were laid out on Lana’s bed, enjoying a weekend late afternoon nap.

**********************

Lena made her way into the back lab of the ground floor of LuthorCorp Tower. Not as many people were in the building, since it was Saturday, so she hadn’t met anyone other than the security guards in the lobby on the way. Inside, Lex was sitting at the one empty table on the far side of the room to the right, leaning forward in his seat and staring at his laptop computer. Behind it was a wooden chess set ready for a game. He didn’t look up as she entered but addressed her with conversation.

“Have you considered taking the Luthor name yet?”

Lena rolled her eyes in stride. They’d had this talk several times but she indulged him anyway. “I thought we were trying to keep my relation to you guys a secret since it would bring bad press to Dad. Or, you know, make my life harder.”

Lex smirked. “Please, you’ve heard him a million times. ‘The only bad news is no news at all.’ And that was before, when you were younger. You’re legal now, and Dad even endorses the idea.  It would be good for you. Mother wouldn’t exactly approve, however.”

“Yes, because I’m so interested in y _our_ mother’s approval,” replied Lena bitterly, coming to a stop a few feet from the table. “I have been acutely aware of her hatred for me for years now.”

“She doesn’t hate you. It’s…more of an intense dislike.”

“Oh, well in that case…” cut Lena. Lex laughed.

“To her, you’re a constant reminder of Lionel’s infidelity. I doubt she ever really loved him, but it still stings nonetheless.”

“I’m aware, but his actions have nothing to do with me. You’d think as smart as she claims to be she’d realize that.”

“No one ever accused her of being reasonable.”

“So forgive me if I don’t feel sorry for her,” said Lena bluntly. Lex gave her a soft look. She continued. “You’re saying I should let Lionel publicly claim me as his daughter and then change my name to Luthor, despite what it would do to them. Interesting, coming from Lillian’s darling boy. What would she think?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Mother can handle it, and you can handle her. It would be good for you.”

“And Lionel?”

“Come on, Lena. Has a famous man ever _truly_ been held accountable for anything?”

He was right. She knew that. Lena had given this a fair amount of thought, but what made her hesitate to answer now was not the perusal of advantages. She was confused about Lex’s position. He cared for her, she was certain of that much, but Lex was not altruistic in nature. Everything he did, amiable or not, was calculated, so Lena knew that even though he had feelings he never expressed them without a specific reason. Despite that, however, a small part of Lena still felt special when Lex would go out of his way for her. She wasn’t exactly used to affection or care from anyone, even though Lionel tried in his own way. With Lex, though, she never felt slighted.

But she still didn’t understand whose side he was on. Lex was already famous as a legitimate Luthor so he had nothing to gain or lose from this. His relationship with his mother was vastly different than what he had with his father, but he would bash and bolster both their reputations equally when in private with Lena. She’d always felt there was a palpable split in the family, but in many ways Lex was a wild card.

“Thanks. But again, I’d like to establish myself on my own first. If I do decide to own the Luthor name, it will be afterward.”

Lex looked up at her and smiled crookedly. It was her favorite one, the least rehearsed. “Suit yourself.”

Lena breathed a sigh of relief and pulled up a chair. She sat next to him, turning a bit to looking at what he’d paused on the laptop screen when she walked in. She side-eyed him.

“You’re watching this _again_?” she deadpanned.

On the screen was the Twitter video she’d already seen three times, a man with a red cape floating in midair over a crowd of people at an airport. “Does that surprise you?” Lex answered.

“I don’t know why you keep replaying this. We both know what happened, and watching it a thousand times won’t make it any less confusing.”

Lena watched as Lex turned to look at her directly. His hairline was already receding and there were wrinkles around his eyes, signaling his age. Most of the time it didn’t feel like he was eight years older than her, but at times like these Lena would notice. He answered her. “What about this is confusing to you?”

“Well, last time I checked people didn’t fly of their own accord like that,” she said, giving him an odd look.

“You’re correct, of course, but I don’t think he,” said Lex, pointing to the screen, “is a person.”

Lena got up to sit back down across from him. Lex moved the laptop out of the way and centered the chess set. White was on Lena’s side, so she moved first. “What’s he supposed to be then? An alien? A god?”

Lex rolled his eyes and moved his own piece. “Surprisingly trite, coming from you. No, but I do not think he is a person as we are. He is something…more.”

“Care to elaborate, Lex?”

They played further and the pieces became more and more spread out on the board. He continued. “Do you remember the story of Prometheus? Dad would tell it from time to time.”

“Of course,” Lena drawled, lapsing into the story. “The titan Prometheus avoided punishment after the titans lost the war with the gods. After mankind was created, Prometheus gave them fire and taught them how to use it. Zeus expected sacrifices from man as a result, and Prometheus, bitter over the imprisonment of his family, tricked Zeus into picking an unfavorable sacrifice as the standards. So he punished mankind by taking fire away. But Prometheus loved mankind and so stole it back for them. For that, and for tricking him, Zeus forced Prometheus to endure eternal punishment by having an eagle eat his liver every day. Check.”

Lex nodded and moved his piece. “I was reminded of the story when watching the video. Mankind has always been at the mercy of the powerful, whether literally or figuratively, in life or in myth.”

“I don’t disagree,” replied Lena, eyes locked on the board. “But who is _he_ in this scenario? Zeus or Prometheus?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? At least it was at first. But I think it is more complicated.”

“You think it doesn’t matter. Whether he means to rule or to help, his intention doesn’t matter.”

Lex nodded. “Perceptive as always. Yes. He can be one or the other or neither, and it will never change the fact that all of mankind is at his mercy. And there is nothing we can do about it. Check.”

Lena stopped and eyed the board, thinking ahead the next few moves. “We know nothing about him. It seems a bit shortsighted on your part to make such a large assessment without having enough evidence. The only reason he seems so powerful is because he can do things others can’t. It’s a game changer, sure, but not the end of the world just yet. We need more data to determine _who_ he is before we define _what_ he is. As perplexing as the latter may seem right now, it doesn’t matter as much as the former.”

“Interesting notion. Why?” asked Lex, looking directly at Lena now. She moved and met his eyes.

“Because knowing what a person _can_ do is less informative than knowing what a person _would_ do.”

“And do you think we’ll be able to trust whatever we find out? None of us will ever truly know him.” Lex moved. Lena took her turn immediately after.

“That remains to be seen, don’t you think? You’re treating him like a higher being. He could just be another one of us.”

“If he isn’t?”

Lena smiled softly and answered in a low voice, moving her piece. “You’re still focusing on the _what_ , Lex. Checkmate.”


	10. What Being Selfish Looks Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark and Lana have a lot to figure out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one...angst and fluff galore

Clark woke up slowly, hair rumpled and body completely relaxed. It took him a moment to figure out where he was, but after sitting up in bed, Lana’s room came into view. He’d expected her to still be asleep since he had a habit of waking up before her. Looking around, he saw she wasn’t lying next to him. She wasn’t even in the room. It was later in the day, but judging by the amount of light coming into the room, the sun hadn’t set yet. Clark closed his eyes and listened. He picked up her heartbeat and got up, following the sound. He found her in the kitchen.

Lana was leaning against the counter with a glass of water, staring blankly into the sink. Clark could hear her heart thumping wildly in her chest and her breath coming out in short, shaky gasps. Her grip was tight on the glass as she raised it and took a few gulps.

“What happened?” asked Clark softly, stopping a foot away from her. She looked up at him with tired eyes, wet and red above tear-stained cheeks. Her voice came out much stronger and clearer than he expected.

“Bad dream. Dad, he…” Lana took a deep breath and shook her head. “Forget it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Clark nodded. Reaching out, he put a hand on her arm. Lana was wearing her Central City University t-shirt, now damp from sweat and a little water she’d spilled while drinking. She didn’t seem to care much. “What do you need?”

Lana gulped down the rest of her water and left the glass in the sink. She didn’t meet his eyes. “Just…hold me?”

She didn’t wait for him to answer. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so she clawed lightly at his sides and pulled him to her. Clark wrapped his arms around her as she did the same, but it wasn’t enough for her. Lana squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force the dream to go away.

“More,” she whispered, squeezing him.

Clark tightened his hold on her and she nodded against him. Lana hated feeling like this, like she’d been spending all her energy running toward something only to realize she’d never actually gone anywhere. One bad dream and she was a crying, shivering mess. She’d woken up feeling trapped, suffocated by how warm Clark was. Bolting out of bed, Lana had felt her chest heaving with the fresh memory of her nightmare and now guilt at needing to be away from him for a while. She knew it had nothing to do with Clark specifically, but it made her feel worse nonetheless. Had he been awake he would have wanted to help any way he could, and it would hurt him to realize that he couldn’t. Lana had made a beeline to the kitchen and sat on the tiled floor before folding her knees up and sobbing as quietly as she could. She didn’t want to wake him. How could she? Why would she? She couldn’t begin to explain everything that happened or anything she felt. Lana never told him how bad it got back home before she graduated high school. His parents had only heard anything second hand, and the one time she’d seen Clark notice a bruise she’d made him swear on their friendship he wouldn’t say a word.

It was the only time they’d ever argued. He was angry, even close to tears, but she’d made him promise. Lana wasn’t even sure why she did. At first, she was afraid of the consequences. But even as they argued and he’d initially told her that he couldn’t do what she asked, Lana loved that he’d had that reaction. She had desperately wanted him to storm off and go through with what he’d wanted to do, but she’d told him not to anyway. The promise had two conditions: that he’d never tell or imply that anything was wrong to anyone, and that he wouldn’t do anything about it himself. Sitting there on the kitchen floor, she’d cried harder when she remembered that as bad as it was, he’d kept his promise.

But that was because he only knew a small part. Lana was certain he wouldn’t have kept his word if he knew everything. Clark’s need to keep her safe was too strong for that. So she hadn’t told him how her father had almost killed her mother once, or how her mother had kicked her out for the night when Lana mentioned that one of her friends identified as trans. Lana certainly hadn’t mentioned the night she was locked in the storm cellar. This last one had been the template of her nightmare, mixing memory with fiction. Holding onto Clark, she steeled herself, jaw clenched in anger at her own brain for sending her spiraling in a muddle of fear and hatred. Once she’d calmed down enough, Lana actually wanted him there. Of course, that’s when he showed up.

Eventually she calmed down, gradually loosening her grip on him until she felt strong enough to let go. Lana could see the conflict in Clark’s eyes. Knowing him, he was worried and he wasn’t sure what to do. She pulled him down and kissed him softly.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Slipping her hand into his and holding tightly, Lana led him back to her room. She kissed the back of his hand and pulled him back to bed with her so she could settle in with her head on his chest. His heart was beating slowly and steadily, and she stayed silent listening to it. Clark didn’t speak.

Lana thought about her father, and people like him. It seemed too commonplace. She thought about her mother, poster woman for being both victim and oppressor. Then she thought about the man who tried to rob her and Clark. If her boyfriend was right, something other than malice had driven him to it. Lana hated how complicated wrongdoing could be. She had always tried to simplify it, making her own code as easy to follow as possible. Good intentions _and_ good actions together – anything else wasn’t good enough. But sometimes it was hard. Sometimes you can’t tell a bad action from a good one until after it’s done. Sometimes it would seem that the end would justify the means, that you could do something awful as long as it made something good in the end. She couldn’t tell Clark everything she wanted to, not really. The risk was too high, and so was his moral standard. She couldn’t even entertain the possibility of him seeing her as less. Logically, she was relatively sure he’d understand. Emotionally, though, she felt like he’d stop looking at her like she put the stars he loved so much in the sky. Nobody else looked at her like that, and she never wanted it to go away.

Lana knew she was getting better. There was palpable evidence. But what if it wasn’t enough? Who would she hurt? What kind of damage could she cause if she never got to be as good as she wanted? It wouldn’t be intentional, of course, but that wouldn’t matter if the transgression was bad enough. Lana was afraid she was being selfish with Clark. She loved how much he valued her and worked to prove him right, and yet she knew it would take a long time for her to change into the person he already thought she was. A part of her didn’t feel right subjecting Clark to potential hurt between then and now, and she was terrified she’d fall complacent in her selfishness.

Maybe because it seemed more acceptable to the world to do things for oneself than to care about other people. So many did whatever they wanted as long as the consequences didn’t directly affect them. Lana thought about LuthorCorp and its influence. Every billion-dollar corporation she’d heard of had gotten to where it was (or stayed where it was) because it exploited people on a large scale. She knew that the executives at LuthorCorp had to have done the same. Despite her disapproval, however, Lana still chose to be involved with them because of what it could do for her. Didn’t that make her just as bad as those of whom she disapproved, even if in their position and situation she would have done differently?

Lana had tried to cast these thoughts away – and succeeded mostly – but every time she saw the leaders in the lab complete a project, they’d rear their ugly heads. She wanted desperately to be one of them, but then what if she helped make something that was used with nefarious intentions instead of compassionate ones? It would not be her fault directly, but she would still feel responsible. Lana wished there was a way to be sure, a way to always know the right thing. She wished that doing the right thing was always easy. She wished she could prevent all the bad that were going to happen, for her and for everyone else. But she was just one person who had neither power nor influence. She was only human.

And that’s what made her feel the worst, now lying in bed next to him. Clark, at his core, wanted what she wanted and had the power to make it happen. She thought it would be perfect, something that would bring them together in mutual support, and yet she held a pit in her stomach. Lana never told him (probably because she hadn’t been honest with herself), but she wasn’t truly comfortable with him in the spotlight. There was something about being one of the few who knew about Clark’s powers that made her feel special, and even though he was building another persona for the public, Lana knew it meant sharing him and losing that kind of exclusivity. It was illogical but it hurt nonetheless, like every time he left to fly around was a step further away from her. But she would never ask him to stop. It would be wrong, and wasn’t helping people what she wanted anyway?

“Do you ever think about stopping crime? People doing the wrong thing, I mean.” Lana asked quietly, looking up at his face. “Making sure bad people don’t do bad things.”

Clark stared up at the ceiling, nodding slowly.

“Why don’t you?”

He leaned his head forward a bit, making eye contact. “What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you protect people that way? When you go out, fly around…most of the time it’s natural disasters or accidents you save people from, right? Do you ever protect people from other people?” Clark sighed, hesitating. Lana prompted more. “I know you don’t ignore things like that on purpose. That’s not you. I just think you’re being too cautious and not looking for it. And I think you should.”

Clark closed his eyes and let his head drop back down to the pillow. He couldn’t deny it – she was right. Normally when doing a quick fly-over he looked for big forms of danger that people couldn’t easily get themselves out of, but he hadn’t really gone out of his way to help individual people who would be victims of a particular malicious crime. It wasn’t that he specifically chose not to, but he’d never bothered to stay in one place too long so far and so hadn’t really come across it, let alone looked for it. Regardless, he felt ashamed now. Originally, he was hesitant to take the law into his own hands and do what police departments were supposed to do but on the other hand, it was very evident that they didn’t actually do what they were supposed to anyway. And every day there were good people who risked their lives to help strangers. He had no right not to do the same, especially since he’d never be in any danger.

He’d been trying to walk the line between human and alien as of late, and he felt himself losing sight of who he was. Clark didn’t want to over-insert himself into humanity when acting as something so different from them, but focusing on the fact that he was an alien made him forget that he was still pretty human in spirit. He wasn’t so apart from them as he’d led himself into believing.

“You’re right,” said Clark thickly. “I’ve been so preoccupied with thinking ahead, with big picture stuff that I forgot it’s all made up of small parts. The world is one thing but every single person, every single life is a little world of its own too.”

Lana nodded, giving him a small smile. He was always good with words. “You can help anyone with anything, Clark, big or small. We are going to need you for the big stuff, even if not all of us know it yet, but don’t be afraid to get down on the ground with us either.”

Clark knew what she was saying. If he had the opportunity to prevent even one person from suffering or hurting in some way, he should do it, even if it meant protecting people from each other. Just as important to him was promising to listen and look for anyone in need in any form, because too often people were too preoccupied with their own lives to notice when others need them. Sometimes it was a friend, a relative, or just an acquaintance that could have been helped had a person known about their problem, but they weren’t because no one did. Lana wanted him to be the person who did, for everyone, because he was the only one who could be.

“I promise,” said Clark.

Lana knew Clark could pick up on the fact that it was personal for her, and she was grateful he didn’t mention it. She was too exhausted to think about it any further. She sighed contentedly at the ease with which Clark had responded. The subject was heavier and she’d felt more uptight than her tone had suggested, but he addressed it with the gravity it needed. Lana hadn’t expected Clark to admit his faults so quickly. People didn’t normally do that. She sure as hell didn’t, at least not out loud. He’d have to teach her that one day.

“I love you,” she whispered, looking at his face. “You know that, right?”

Clark sat up a bit, an odd look on his face. “I…do now?”

Lana laughed and kissed him twice quickly. He calmed a bit. “I love you too, by the way,” he said.

“Of course you do,” Lana breathed, rolling over. She was smirking, like always, but also blushing furiously in the golden sunlight emanating from the windows. Hearing the words made her feel fuzzy. She needed them. “I mean, have you met me? How could you not?”

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Way to cheapen the moment.”

“Confidence does not cheapen anything,” said Lana, swatting his arm. “In fact, it does the opposite. It…what’s the opposite of ‘cheapen?’”

Clark thought for a moment. “Um…bolster? Enhance? Augment? Upraise?”

Lana stretched out on the bed, taking up much more space than she needed and pushing against her boyfriend playfully. “Yeah, that.”

Clark rolled over onto his side and pulled Lana to face him. They were only a few inches apart now, and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead. She snuggled in closer to him and stayed that way for a while, basking in the silence diminished only by the pang in her heart.

 

Clark was a person who naturally fell into routine, so that’s exactly what happened after making his costumed fly-overs an everyday thing. After his conversation with Lana, he’d gotten into the habit of flying high above the clouds and extending his hearing range as far as he could. That way, he could sift through as much noise as possible to determine where his help was needed most. The first time he did it, he’d gotten overwhelmed and had to fly into the mesosphere before calming enough to focus. It reminded him of the first time he’d discovered his enhanced hearing when he was in high school. Jonathan had let him take a day off from school and helped him focus enough to control it and relax enough to ignore the sounds that were far away.

Now, true to his word, he’d taken to protecting people from a variety of crimes as well as other forms of danger. Most of the time he ended up stopping robberies, occasionally talking to the perpetrators and getting them to desist. That was always his main goal, but usually they refused to talk and just attacked. Clark had to be vigilant and reactive at all times so nobody got hurt. One way to make sure was to catch all bullets so none of them would ricochet. He’d neglected to do this the first time, and the bullets had bounced right off him and caused significant damage to the inside of the bank. Clark made sure to dodge punches, kicks, and tackles as well, so criminals wouldn’t hurt themselves. His go-to move was to tie the perps up with the retractable tape from the stanchions in a store or bank and leave the robbers for the cops to find.

Even though he’d spent a lot of time in other countries, most of Clark’s time dealing with crime was spent in the United States. As a result, people around the States had started to accept him as a real person and would recognize him periodically. Knowing this actually made Clark a bit more comfortable and even though he’d never talk at length, occasionally he’d stop and say hi.

As the summer got into full swing, Lana, Clark and even Martha got busier. Martha had taken up volunteering at a homeless shelter in Keystone City through the Kansas Department of Children and Families. She spent a few days there every week, helping to look after homeless kids, runaways, and even whole families who had no other options. Having been inspired and nudged into action by hearing about her son on the news from time to time, Martha had decided that her time could be spent proactively instead of reactively like when she was Smallville’s sheriff. Being a law enforcement officer often meant reacting to problems and cleaning up the mess, but working at the shelter meant she could help people in their hardships and prevent something even worse from happening.

Lana was in the back half of her fellowship, and the entire group of fellows was assisting with a project concerning aircraft safety mechanisms. Lana considered herself lucky that she had specifically dealt with aircraft energy systems when working on her Master’s degree, because a few of the other fellows were stressed with being thrown into a project with not much experience. She ended up taking the lead in assisting. Lana particularly enjoyed working with Lena who, even though she had a degree in Robotics, showed that she was also knowledgeable in a great deal of other scientific disciplines and was a quick study as well.

Because of Lana’s busy schedule and Clark’s activities, they’d seen less of each other as the year fell into July. Clark busied himself in the Fortress in his down time, furthering his studies in Kryptonian culture and scientific discipline. It was mindboggling how rudimentary human technology was compared to Krypton’s. Clark had a lot to catch up on, and it wasn’t easy. He enjoyed learning, if at his leisure, but he’d never focused on the sciences much after high school and so was already at a disadvantage from human standards. Kelex was a big help, though.

After one particularly long lesson, Clark took a break and had Kelex run the capabilities of his suit by him again. Getting a glimpse into Kryptonian technology, he was sure there were more intricate features involved since Kelex had made it to Kryptonian standard. It was durable despite being incredibly thin, but not as durable as Clark himself was. Resistant against extreme temperatures, friction, tension, and blunt force, the suit held up best against the former two. It was insulated and offered protection against high voltages, but if bombarded with enough force, it could be damaged or pierced despite its high threshold. Lastly, the suit could only protect against a finite amount of ionizing radiation. Since Kryptonians were genetically engineered to be able to absorb non-ionizing radiation from Rao, the suit was designed to be passive in this regard. On an unrelated note, the boots and cape, though connected to the bodysuit, were detachable.

Clark had only gone out flying after grabbing the uniform from the Fortress, but he knew eventually he’d have to carry it with him indefinitely at some point. One day, and soon, he’d end up in a situation where he wasn’t in his suit and he’d need to change quickly. So as practice, he decided to devise ways of concealing it and carrying it. The material itself, including the cape, was stretchy and flexible while also compressible, so hiding it wouldn’t be the problem. The issue was what he would do with his normal clothes.

After different trials and outfits, Clark determined that the costume, being comfortable and skintight, would easily fit under any of his clothes (assuming he was wearing long pants and sleeves). Luckily for him, his body was thermo-regulated so well that we wouldn’t get cold or hot no matter what he wore. His civilian clothes, he guessed, would have to be hidden somewhere nearby since carrying them at all times would be a ridiculous hindrance. Clark shrugged. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it; this was the sort of thing that required trial and error.

 

Clark was in the mood for a gyro and so headed to Metropolis. Spending so much time there with Lana the past month, he’d found an older Pakistani man working a cart on a street corner by the Metropolis Museum of Art. His gyros were the best by far, and he was always there late at night. This night, on July 4th, was no different.

It was Friday, so there were people around. Clark had changed into street clothes on top of a building and then traveled down the fire escape into an alley before making his way to his favorite cart guy. There was surprisingly no line, and Clark, in a good mood, greeted the man in Urdu like he always did. The man boomed a laugh.

“How many times I tell you? I’m working on English, my friend! How can I get better if you speak Urdu?”

“All right, all right,” Clark smiled. “How’s it going, Nasim?”

“Fantastic! Everyone is drinking and celebrating. When they drink, they get hungry. I get a lot of business later tonight. The usual for you?”

Clark nodded. “Yep, and a can of ginger ale, please.”

Nasim went to work, chatting amiably with Clark all the while. It didn’t take long, and in a few minutes Clark was paying and heading down the street. His aim was just to take a leisurely walk, enjoying the city at night and eating his gyro, and that’s exactly what he did. The museum was closed by this time, but further downtown were bars, clubs, restaurants and movie theaters that were packed with people. Clark could hear fireworks in the distance behind the din of the young-adult summer night scene. People didn’t do much of that in the city, but the suburbs across the rivers were a riot. The whole thing was surreal for him. It was like being in the eye of an American hurricane.

As soon as Clark had finished eating, he heard something odd coming from far away. Normally, nightclubs always held this sort of light, raucous noise late at night – mostly music, laughter and aimless chatter. This time it sounded more like angry buzzing, as if a beehive had been knocked over. Slowing down and listening in, Clark determined that a fight had broken out earlier and the perpetrators (two men who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves) were arrested. The commotion hadn’t seemed to die down since then, and Clark absentmindedly drifted toward the source of the sound as he walked. Most of the chatter came from female voices, but there were angry male voices in the mix as well. Those he could hear more clearly, so he figured they weren’t inside the club. Clark was getting close now; the venue couldn’t be more than a few blocks away. One particular conversation stood out to him, perking his ears up in alertness.

“I can’t believe that bitch got him arrested.”

“It’s not like she wasn’t leading him on all night.”

“Right? I mean, why be all touchy and dance-y if she didn’t want it. And that skirt?”

“Look, she’s coming out now.”

Clark stopped dead in his tracks in the middle of the sidewalk, listening acutely. His eyes were unfocused and his whole body was tense. He couldn’t tell who those two guys were walking about, but it didn’t bode well no matter who it was. For a moment there was nothing to go on, no sound for him to hone in on and give him a clear picture. Then he’d heard a soft cry of fear even further away, and more from the same voices as before. Clark moved.

He was angry. His suit was under his clothes for the first time, and he bitterly cursed the fact that he’d been right so soon. Clark shed his clothes and glasses with increasing speed, leaving them bunched in an alleyway under a milk crate behind a dumpster full of cardboard boxes. Taking off straight up out of the space between two buildings, he followed the sound and ended up in an even narrower alley. There was almost no light, and part of it was blocked off by fencing in the middle. The path had an inlet off to the side just before the fence, and that’s where Clark found them. He could faintly hear the music from the club a block away. It was loud but drowned out by a small thud, an even smaller cry, and the terrified heartbeat of the woman getting backed into a corner.

One of the men had grabbed her and was holding her in place with most of his body, telling her not to make a sound. He was of average height and build, with a balding head and five o’clock shadow. The other guy, tall and lanky, peeked back into the alley as a lookout and was met by a furious Clark floating a few feet away, several inches off the ground. Jaw clenched and brow creased, he looked between the two men. The only reason he hadn’t already acted was that he was so angry he didn’t trust himself not to break them if he moved. The lookout had gone silent with wide eyes, mouth gaping in disbelief. Clark drew a breath and spoke.

“Stop,” he commanded loudly. The other man and the woman looked at him immediately, and he heard the man curse under his breath. The inlet was awash in a low red light, and only then did Clark realize that his own eyes were glowing. “Back away from her, and I won’t hurt you.”

The lookout backed up into the fence, looking to put distance between himself and the floating figure in front of him but not being able to do much. The first man was much bolder. “Beat it, buddy. This ain’t got nothing to do with you.”

He turned back to the young woman, who was still looking at Clark with pleading eyes that held their own form of uncertainty. Clark moved faster, coming to grab his arm and yanked him away and behind him almost into his friend. “I wasn’t asking.”

Clark angled himself so that the woman was at his back. She hadn’t said one word since he showed up, but her breathing had slowed. The first man was holding his own arm and the second man was tugging at the other, telling him to run. “It’s _him_. We need to go!”

He didn’t listen. Instead, he moved forward and swung at Clark with his good arm. Normally, Clark would dodge for the aggressor’s sake, but this time he made no effort to move at all. He was sure that he’d bruised the man badly when pulling him, but he knew this would be worse. And it was.

The man screamed in pain as his fist collided with Clark’s cheek. An audible crunching sound filled the air, and Clark could hear that even the woman behind him gasped and flinched. “You should listen to your friend,” said Clark.

This time the man relented, and the two attackers staggered off down the alley and back onto the street. Clark took a deep breath and turned around to face the woman, who looked like she had shrunk herself in the corner to take up as little space as possible.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, keeping a little distance between them. “Did they hurt you?”

She looked at him and shook her head slowly. “No. You got here before…”

Clark stepped back into the alley proper, watching her unfurl herself and giving her space to come out of the inlet. She did. The low light illuminated her face, showing smudged makeup and a couple of scratches. He wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“Do you want to go to the police?” he asked.

“No point,” she whispered, avoiding his eyes. “Didn’t get a good look at them.”

“I did, and I can catch them again in minutes if I wanted to.”

The woman looked up at him this time, taking a moment to think. She shook her head again, knocking strands of blonde hair into her face. “I just want to go home.”

Clark nodded awkwardly. The blonde didn’t move.

“I can…fly you home, if that’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.”

The woman in front of him took a deep breath, fidgeting a little. Eventually she nodded. “Thanks. I don’t live that far.”

Giving her warning, Clark slipped one hand under her knees and one on her back while she wrapped her arms around his neck. He floated up, gradually gathering height and just a little bit of speed. She was surprisingly calm in the air, directing him where to go with quiet confidence. Her voice was still a bit shaky, though. Within a few minutes Clark had her in front of her apartment building and then she was inside safe and sound after an awkward thank you and goodbye.

After dropping the woman off, Clark was still wound tight. Gliding over the Metropolis skyline hadn’t calmed him like it usually did, and he wasn’t sure how to use his pent up energy. It wasn’t like he could escape his own brain. Not counting the earlier incident it was a relatively quiet night, and he couldn’t discern any more situations that needed his immediate attention. So he continued to fly.

Even though he loved to fly fast, Clark took his time. Human speed was his default, and sometimes it was mentally draining to do things at higher speeds for extended periods of time. He cruised over New Troy, high enough to admire the view but low enough that he was still below the clouds. A bitter taste still stung in his mouth. Going forward, he would have to deal with worse people and worse crimes than he encountered earlier tonight, and that was something to which he was not looking forward.

“Hey!”

Clark’s brow furrowed. He’d been periodically checking in on the sounds of the city, but that sounded off.

“ _HEY!_ ”

He slowed to a stop, floating directly above the street with his head cocked to the side. It sounded a lot closer that time. Clark looked below and ahead of him, but saw nobody who seemed to know he was there.

“Over here!”

Clark whirled around and finally caught the source of the sound. He hadn’t realized it, but he had just passed the Daily Planet building, level with the giant golden rotating globe at the top. On the roof was a woman, staring at him and waving. She had an expectant look on her face, as if to say “well what are you waiting for? I don’t have all night.”

She was standing in the middle of the smooth expanse of the roof, far away from any edge. Clark drifted over and stopped to hover a few yards away from her. Black hair blew into her face with the breeze, and she tried to flick it out of her eyes to no avail. She stared thoughtfully, pulling a hair tie from her wrist and tying her hair back in a ponytail. Floating several inches off the ground with his cape flapping lightly in the wind, Clark waited patiently. Finally, she spoke.

“You’re bigger than I remember.”

Clark squinted in confusion. Having been surprised at the voice directed at him, he hadn’t noticed much of her appearance at first. He paid attention to her face, now fully exposed, and felt a pang of familiarity.

“You were on the plane,” said Clark, cocking his head to the side. “The L707.”

“Totally was, yeah,” she said. “Thanks for the save, by the way. Much appreciated, since I value my life.”

Clark smirked. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re more scowl-y than I remember, too. Something got you in a bad mood?”

Clark hadn’t even been aware of the tension in his face. He relaxed at her words and shook his head. “Nah. I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you’d stop, just now. Kind of figured you’d just,” (she made a stretching gesture with her hand, like a plane taking off) “fly away.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not in any rush. Now you have my attention, Miss…”

“Lane. Lois Lane.”

Clark nodded. “You’re a reporter for the Daily Planet.”

“That’s correct,” she replied with a hint of a smile. She took a chance. “I don’t suppose you’d do an interview, huh?”

“I…will have to respectfully decline at this time,” said Clark slowly, eyes darting away from her for a moment. Lois laughed. Another barrage of fireworks in the distance caught Clark’s eye. “What are you doing here so late on a holiday? It’s got to be almost midnight.”

“Working.” Lois received only a quizzically raised eyebrow as an answer. She continued. “This is one of my least favorite holidays anyway and it’s not like I got invited to any barbeques. Nothing else to do.”

“You’d rather spend a Friday night at work than at home?” Clark asked, his confused expression deepening.

“What’s with the interrogation? I thought _I_ was the reporter here.” Lois’s expression was devoid of emotion but her tone was much more playful than her words would have implied.

“Sorry,” relented Clark with a sheepish smile. “It’s just a little out of the ordinary is all.”

Lois chuckled, raising her eyebrows. “You’re a guy who can literally fly without any type of assistance and chooses to do so in a bright costume and _I’m_ out of the ordinary?”

Clark laughed with her. “Okay. You’ve got a point.”

She gave him a look of mild satisfaction. “Speaking of, what’s with this outfit? Trying to make a fashion statement? And what does the ‘S’ stand for?”

“It’s not an ‘S,’” replied Clark, looking down at himself.

“It’s totally an ‘S,’ but whatever. Anywho, I’ve got a few questions since the incident. I know you said no to an interview but some answers would help give me peace of mind – off the record. I promise I don’t have my tape recorder with me. I just came up here for a smoke break.”

Lois pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of her back pocket for emphasis. Clark noticed she was in casual (and stylish) clothing this time. He avoided the request.

“You know, you really shouldn’t smoke, Miss Lane.”

She sighed, casting her eyes down for a second. “Yeah. Bad habit I picked up from daddy dearest. That and being a workaholic, as you can see. Lucy always scolds me for it. She’s my little sister.”

“Sounds like she cares about you,” said Clark. Lois snorted.

“More like she finally has something to be on her high horse about. She’s the wild one, not me.” Lois watched as Clark touched down on the ground. He gave her a small smile. “Anyway…I asked you this last time but you didn’t really give an answer. Who are you? And if you call yourself a friend again I swear to God I’ll kick your ass. I don’t care how many planes you can lift.”

Clark shook his head, smiling. She reminded him of Lana, but a bit more brazen.

“I’m just someone who wants to help,” said Clark, taking a couple of steps forward.

Lois’s face softened in a mixed expression of sympathy and impatience. “Mind explaining a bit further there, Tinkerbell?”

Clark rolled his eyes before looking directly at her. “People can only do so much. Even those that have the desire to make the world better or just make another person’s day a little brighter have a limit to what they can accomplish day to day. But with all the abilities I have…I can do so much more. And since I can, I feel like I have this responsibility to do so.”

Lois took in his response, staring blankly at him. She didn’t expect that.

“You’re not kidding are you?” She saw Clark shake his head and gave him an enigmatic look. Lois had only been a reporter for a couple years, but her instincts were as good as any veteran’s. Her gut was always right, and she’d had enough experience to know her innate cynicism was warranted. However, her gut wasn’t telling her anything bad now. In fact, it wasn’t telling her anything at all. That was new. “If you’re telling the truth, that’s very admirable. The Boy Scouts would love you.”

Clark gave her a bashful look. He wasn’t sure how to respond. Lois looked like she had more on her mind, but wanted to choose her words carefully. It made Clark curious. He didn’t normally see a clear juxtaposition between control and impulsiveness in a person. She was fighting the urge to do something. Clark wondered what it was.

“I’ve, uh, been in danger more times than I can count but being on that plane when it was falling…that was the first time I ever really thought I was gonna die.” Lois watched Clark’s face soften into a passively patient expression. “I’m just baffled – and a little terrified – by how lucky it was that you decided to save me and everyone on it on a whim.”

“They aren’t just whims. I couldn’t just let you all die. If someone else had been in my position, wouldn’t they have done the same?”

The certainty with which he’d said that was mindboggling. Lois knew that in reality the chances of that would be fifty-fifty at best, but for some reason she couldn’t find the words to tell him. “I guess so.”

Clark smiled widely, and Lois found that she couldn’t stop herself from doing the same. They stayed like that, looking at each other until Lois felt a nervous flutter in her stomach.

“So, um…thank you for doing what you do,” she said with a shaky laugh. He nodded.

“You’re welcome, Lois.”

“Still a no on that interview?”

“I’m afraid so,” he responded with a chuckle.

Lois sighed heavily, folding her arms. “You’re not the most forthcoming person, it seems.”

Clark cocked his head, peering at her. “Are you?”

“…no,” Lois answered begrudgingly, narrowing her eyes. Clark laughed. “But I’m not the big unknown here. You are. The world wants to know more about you. Most of the world doesn’t even know I exist.”

“It’s too…early for that. You’ll get to know more when the time is right.”

“And when will that be?” asked Lois. She only received a patient expression in response. Her breath came out in a huff. “Okay. Then will I be seeing you again?”

Clark shrugged. “Sure. I’ll be flying around Metropolis every now and then. All you’ll have to do is look up.”

Lois pursed her lips. That wasn’t what she’d meant. “Right.”

Clark floated up a bit, catching the wind. His cape flapped behind him. “Well, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were working on, even though you should probably go home and sleep.”

Lois nodded awkwardly, watching him gain height.

“Good night, Lois,” he called, giving her a wave.

Lois waved back.

********************

Lena was never fond of Luthor family breakfasts. Granted she hadn’t participated in them often, having been in the care of a nanny and then in boarding schools since being adopted. Lena hadn’t been adopted by the Luthors outright, but by a “friend” of whom she never saw much even as a little girl. Coming into a new family at four years old after her mother died was daunting, but Lena considered herself lucky that she had been too young to fully comprehend the gravity of the situation. Most of her childhood was spent with Raisa, her nanny, and with Lex, so it wasn’t until her pre-teen years that she’d started to get much attention from Lionel and Lillian (good and bad). Even then, it was only in private. In public, she was still Lena Mercer and relatively unknown in most situations. If she saw the Luthors at all, it was usually at a place they owned but didn’t frequent. Lex had taken on the big brother role when he could and, like now, provided a buffer between her and Lillian. He wasn’t an aggressive defender, but Lena still felt a bit more protected whenever he was around.

The four Luthors were sitting around a small yet ornate square table. Lionel, always one to keep up appearances, made conversation. Lex, of course, contributed seamlessly. Lena always envied Lex’s ability to tailor himself to any situation, but was also a bit put off by it. No doubt it was a skill taught by Lillian, though because of her current power and influence she rarely used it anymore. She and Lionel both made a point to make sure Lex and Lena (respectively) learned what they felt was necessary to know in order to navigate the world as people of power and privilege. Lex had taken to all official and non-official lessons quickly and without issue. Lena, on the other hand, was almost always uncomfortable. When in boarding school Lena had some autonomy in her studies, but during summer breaks she and Lex were tutored in business and political science, both for which Lena didn’t care much. She was significantly more interested in building and inventing things than managing subordinates and kissing other people’s asses for money. Still, it came in handy when trying to appease her father. It did not work on Lillian, however, and after years of rejection Lena stopped actively trying to impress her. She knew (and hated) that she still harbored a little hope that one day she’d gain Lillian’s approval, but now it was on the back-burner.

“How did the meeting with Mr. Maeda go?” asked Lex, digging into his food.

Lionel gave a noncommittal shrug. “Not as well as I’d hoped, but overall better than expected. Either way, his is not the only mining company available for contract.”

“True, but his is the best when it comes to discretion.”

“That we know of so far,” smirked Lionel. “I’m sure we can…incentivize others if need be. Let’s hope this endeavor isn’t plagued by misfortune like the last.”

“Or else that colorful peacock in the sky will save us again?” drawled Lillian sardonically.

Lionel gave her a look. “I wouldn’t yet count on those odds, though his actions were rather fortuitous. It would’ve been a PR nightmare had people died.”

“And terrible for their families,” added Lena. Lillian rolled her eyes. Lex’s mouth twitched.

“Yes, of course, darling,” Lionel replied with a patient look before continuing. “The plan is to keep this under wraps. That flying man seems to be getting more and more proactive when it comes to danger and I would not like to be on his or anyone else’s radar.”

“You’ve been monitoring him?” said Lex

Lionel nodded, eyes brightening. “In a way, certainly. If I weren’t running a billion-dollar company I’d be spending a lot more time on him. This man is an anomaly, a person with extraordinary abilities. He could be the next step in our evolution, Lex, and I aim to learn as much about him as I can. Even meet him if it’s in the cards. So much power in one man…fascinating.”

A thick silence fell over the group. Lillian chimed in. “I do not trust him. For someone so keen on making public appearances in a ridiculous costume he seems to be hiding a great deal. He’s been the talk of the internet and broadcast news for over a month and nobody knows a thing about him except that he’s strong, fast, and can somehow fly. All he does is swoop in, save lives, and fly away.”

“Is that a bad thing?” asked Lena incredulously. Lillian shot her a look of thinly veiled impatience.

“Good and bad are irrelevant, Lena. He is an unknown variable and therefore highly dangerous.”

“I don’t disagree,” retorted Lionel. “Yet I do deem it unwise to make an enemy out of someone so powerful so quickly. Who can say for certain he only has these three abilities? This is likely the main reason significant world powers have been hesitant to call him out despite his disregard for sovereign borders. Though I suspect that many have already begun to militarize just in case. We have no idea how powerful he truly is. I’ve no doubt that he is being scrutinized more thoroughly than anyone has been in the history of mankind.”

“A prudent course of action,” said Lillian. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Quite. LuthorCorp will continue to track his exploits, of course, off the books. Intriguingly, he’s been spotted here in Metropolis more often than anywhere else, which requires further study.”

“You will include me in this?”

“Of course, Lillian. Would either of you like to be in on this project?”

Lex affirmed immediately, but it took a few seconds for Lena to gather her answer. She nodded, initiating an awkward silence.

“What is the mining project for?” said Lena slowly, uncomfortable with the tension.

Lionel piped back up, engaged. “A mineral. A xeno-mineral in fact! Rather large meteorites have been found in several places across the country. Their chemical composition is nothing like anything we’ve seen before. Some of our associates discovered small crystals in Texas when closing a contract with the Army. We gathered spectroscopic data and are doing our best to find more with its isotopic signature.”

“Are they radioactive?” Lena asked, smiling widely. Her relationship with Lionel wasn’t perfect by any means, but every drawback seemed to fade away for her every time they talked science.

“Yes, but faintly. We’ll be following protocol for protection of course, but so far it seems superfluous.”

“What do they look like?”

“They’re magnificent, Lena. Gorgeous and clearer than anything you’ve ever seen. And they glow.”

“Seriously?” Lena looked at Lex, grinning. She knew he wasn’t anywhere near as excited as she was, but he smiled back anyway.

“Oh, yes. A deep, bright green.”

***********************

< _Kelor, what is our approximate distance from Earth?_ > asked Zod, walking down the corridor leading to the healing chamber. He considered himself fortunate that he was able to get his A.I. back online despite the rest of his ship running on basic capabilities.

< _Nine and a half light-years, General_ ,> Kelor responded.

It was oddly comforting to hear the digitized voice of the robotic assistant. Kelor had been a gift from Jor-El, the last before they’d fallen out and Zod had formed the Black Zero as resistance against the Council. Walking down the corridor now, Zod felt an uncharacteristic pang in his hard heart. He and Jor had agreed on almost everything, and even this to an extent. Even though they’d differed on method, they both knew there needed to be change where the Council was concerned. In a way, Zod admired Jor for his belief that reason would hold out. But he’d known better. The Council was past reason, and would only see force. Not that it mattered much anyway. Krypton would have been destroyed regardless.

Zod strode into the healing chamber. Faora was sitting on the floor in the middle of a mess of tools, swiping through a hand-held command console with a hard look on her face. Eight rejuvenation capsules stood along the walls in an inverted “U” shape, each disconnected from the piping coming through the ceiling. Large tables made of metal and crystal filled the empty space in the middle of the room. Off to the side closer to Faora were eight small mechanical spheres. She looked over at the general as he came in and greeted him with a curt nod before standing up and giving him an update.

< _It is almost finished. The healing apparatuses have been repurposed as you commanded. All they need now is genetic material to serve as a template for transformation._ >

< _Perfect. Thank you, Faora,_ > said Zod. She nodded. A silence fell between them while Zod pondered his next words. Faora began to clean up. < _I am pleased that it is you who is by my side._ >

Faora stopped and looked back at him, wary. Her fingers twitched.

< _It is an honor, General,_ > she replied slowly, clearly guarded amid the uncharacteristically blatant declaration of emotion. She could not read him; his face held no expression. He still held the stoicism for which he had always been so well known.

< _Do you know why I chose you as my lieutenant, long before the days of the Black Zero?_ > asked Zod softly, tilting his head a bit and clasping his hands behind his back with a wide stance.

< _For my astuteness in both combat and medical technology?_ > Faora guessed. The corner of Zod’s mouth twitched upward.

< _In part, yes. But more specifically for your conviction and your sense of loyalty. To Krypton, and to me._ >

< _The Council failed me. You and Krypton did not._ >

< _Nor have you once failed me,_ > said Zod. His hands unclasped and came to hang at his sides. < _Even when I have asked too much of you._ >

< _You have never asked too much. Ultimately, I trust your judgment and as long as I do, nothing you require will be out of the question._ > Faora put the rest of her tools on the closest table.

Zod looked her over with lidded eyes and a cool expression. < _A dangerous sentiment to express to your commanding officer._ >

< _Would you have expected any less?_ > responded Faora with a hint of a smirk, walking back to face him a few feet away.

Zod beckoned her closer with his hand. She complied, staring at him with her eyebrows slightly raised and a small smile. He did not return her expression with one of his own but she was satisfied to see the glint in his eyes when she walked over. Now they were inches from each other.

< _From a rebel? Never._ >

Finally moving to satisfy his silent longing, he kissed her. Faora gripped him fervently, meeting him with intense enthusiasm. He’d come to expect that despite the fact that in most cases she showed as little emotion as he did. Zod’s relationship with Faora was as complicated as it was simple, but they knew their roles and did not try to change themselves or each other. They worked well on instinct and understood each other fundamentally. Zod guessed that was why they didn’t do much talking in that regard.

Faora pulled him in and he followed, sliding his hands down her waist and over her hips. A few steps back and she was leaning against the table, bracing herself against her lover’s advances while still gripping his suit. It was soft and almost glossy, a sharp contrast to the hard muscle underneath. She was grateful that Zod was not wearing any armor. It would have been that much harder to get him out of his clothing.

Zod grabbed Faora by the hips and lifted her to sit on the edge of the table. He nestled himself between her legs and she wrapped them around his waist instinctively, locking her ankles at his back. She could feel a deep growl reverberate through his chest, making her hungrier for him the more she stripped him of control. Faora clawed at him and he moved his lips to her neck. She moaned joyously at the contact.

Their audible breathing was met with a distant boom filling the air. Zod gritted his teeth in annoyance at the interruption, but knew it could not go unchecked. He pulled back from Faora, and she instinctively moved with him to keep the closeness until she saw his face and regained her wits. She frowned.

< _Kelor, report,_ > Zod barked. He strode back into the corridor with Faora on his heels. Kelor’s disembodied voice answered.

< _There was a small explosion in the engine room. One generator down but the other two are still intact._ >

Faora cursed under her breath and followed Zod at a brisk pace all the way down to the engine room. The two of them came upon the scene that Faora had immediately expected, which was a physical altercation between Dev and Jax. Dev was on the ground lying flat with his forearms covering his face, taking the brunt of Jax’s current assault. Jax was straddled over him, pinning him down.

Faora’s face twisted into a clearly visible sneer at having her moment with Zod interrupted. Her lover had a much more passively stern look as he strode all the way up to the source of the commotion. As Kelor had said, one of the generators off to the side was dented and sparking, clearly no longer in working order. A large device and apparatus were connected to the generator next to it.

With one hand, Zod ripped Jax off of Dev by the shoulder and pinned him to the back wall without a glance back at the victim. Jax, preoccupied with violent intentions, struggled against Zod at first but then relented once noticing that it was his commanding officer restraining him. Jax opened his mouth but was immediately cut off by Zod with a hand around his throat.

< _Do not speak,_ > said Zod in a low voice. He squeezed, and turned only his head to address Dev. < _How long until the phantom drive is completed and operational?_ >

Dev sat up, breathing raggedly and spitting blood from his mouth. < _It is done, General._ >

< _Well done._ > Zod turned back to Jax. < _Now you will listen. You know what my orders were, and yet you did not comply. Had you behaved like a feckless imbecile any earlier, the phantom drive would not have been completed, thus hindering my plans. At the current moment, Dev-Em is more useful than you have shown yourself to be._ >

Jax did not answer, merely staring at his general. Faora walked over to Dev but stopped a few feet away to examine him from a distance. Zod spoke again to Jax. < _Perhaps we can rectify that. Kelor, assume android form and attend to Dev-Em in the infirmary. Faora, follow me back to the healing chamber. I believe we have our subject._ >

The general whipped Jax around him by the throat and let him go, ordering him to march. Jax complied now out of fear, for he had no idea what was going to happen. Zod had not told him much of his plans, and really, why would he? He’d only kept Jax around as extra muscle that he could control, and now that he wasn’t falling in line, Zod had no real long term use for him. It was possible that Jax’s surly disposition made it so that their exile in the Phantom Zone affected him the worst and set him on more intense an edge, but Zod had no time for empathy with everything so close at hand.

Once back in the healing chamber, Jax and Faora both stood a ways away from Zod, awaiting instruction. Faora stood with a noncommittal expression while Jax’s was a pale mask with darting eyes.

< _How much genetic material do you need for the drones, Faora?_ > asked Zod while staring straight at Jax.

< _Not too much,_ > she answered lightly. < _There are eight of them, however._ >

< _Indeed, there are. Hook him up and take what you need._ >

Jax looked between them silently, like a child in trouble with his parents. He was clearly afraid of what they’d do to him, and rightly so. Despite being unafraid to argue with Faora, Jax knew that if it ever came down to it he’d never be able to match her for skill in a fight. But that wasn’t what had him shaking now. It was Zod, the man known on Krypton for being equal parts fair and merciless. His wrath was calm and swift, and nothing terrified his subordinates more than the thought of being on the receiving end of it. Being one of three Kryptonian survivors did nothing to quell that fear for Jax.

Faora did as commanded and Jax flinched when she first got close.

< _If you struggle, I’ll kill you right here,_ > said Zod. Jax relaxed and complied immediately.

Faora connected Jax to the eight spherical objects in the room by way of thin tubes and needles. She drained a bit more blood than she needed, but wasn’t particularly worried about the effects that would have on him. His comfort was not on her list of concerns at all. The job was done quickly, and Faora set the drones to calibrate and record the genetic data. She was fairly sure that they would do what she had redesigned them to do, so the fact that most of the plan was riding on her did not worry her much. More accurately, Faora took pleasure in knowing that Jax had no idea what the rest of the plan involved.

After the procedure, Zod took Jax down to the holding cells and personally locked him in the cell he’d occupied in the Phantom Zone. Dev, who was now as patched up as he was going to be, accompanied Zod and Faora. He took a perverse pleasure in knowing he replaced Jax; his obvious inner torment was an added bonus to Dev’s plan, and it had been so easy. A few jabs to his ego and Jax became a violent mess who couldn’t control himself.

Watching Zod lock Jax up again reminded Dev of his own stint in the dungeons at the royal citadel. It was surreal, thinking of it now. Killing the royal family was more about revenge than it was about helping the common people, though he was sure it accomplished both. It was easy telling Faora during his interrogation. It was almost a boast, in a way. But what he hadn’t told her was that they were his family too. There wasn’t a reason to. Her knowing he was a prince who’d slaughtered his kin would’ve had the opposite effect than the one he desired. Having traded a dungeon cell for one in the Phantom Zone, Dev’s concern was only freedom, and his eventual autonomy and escape with lasting power relied on being trusted (or at least not distrusted) by Faora and Zod.

Daxam was never home, but Dev would have been foolish to regard Krypton as such also. The aim was to find a way to get somewhere else – somewhere he could not only survive, but thrive. That was the reason he went to Krypton in the first place. It was a pit stop on the way to something better. Krypton was the closest planet to Daxam and did not have legal contact with other planets, which was perfect for him. Looking similar to everyone else (he was a bit darker skinned than most but not so much so that he’d stand out considerably) was invaluable and allowed him to blend. Dev had learned the mechanics and technology of space travel at length, making sure he had the means to carry out his plans. But of course, since nothing was ever easy, Zod had staged a coup against the Council before Dev could set the final steps in motion. Not soon after he was discovered by the Council’s military guild in a planet-wide interrogation to weed out foreigners and dissidents. Now all of that was in the past. Presently he was standing on the outside of a cell the way Jax had been with him during the interrogation. He’d pondered Faora’s proposal of escape but ultimately knew he would not take it. Why escape in the middle of nowhere and roam the galaxies for a suitable place when he could accompany them to Earth and be powerful like them? Dev knew enough about Krypton and its people to discern some of Zod’s plan despite the lack of evidence. Luckily, he didn’t need to wait long to figure it all out.

Zod strode up to the gate of the cell and addressed Jax, who was glaring daggers at Dev from the back of his cell. < _Faora, loyal and dutiful as she is, did exactly as I commanded and redesigned the healing apparatuses into genetic manipulators. You have supplied a genetic template for the modification of Earth’s inhabitants so that we will have the strength to defend against the Coluan. He will surely come to collect, and we will need to be ready. Unfortunately, it seems that with this objective completed you have outlived your usefulness._ >

Jax’s eyes flickered between Faora and the general. Slowly, the implications of his superior’s words dawned on him. His face twisted into a mask of fear and panic as he came forward to push against the bars of his cell.

< _Please!_ > he hissed. < _I know I made mistakes, but I have been by your side for many cycles. Loyal to you – to Krypton!_ >

< _What use have I for a loyal nuisance?_ >

Jax huffed and moved to look over at Faora, who was standing idly behind Zod with a bored look on her face. < _Faora! Tell him. You know I can still be useful to the mission. Faora?_ >

She didn’t answer.

< _Silence,_ > Zod snapped. Jax complied immediately, recoiling from his grip on the gate despite being several feet away from the general. He looked between the three on the other side of the bars. Zod gave another order. < _Kneel._ >

The prisoner did as commanded. It reminded him of his first pledge of fealty cycles ago in a citadel in Rao City. Jax stayed silent this time.

< _Kelor,_ > said Zod, eying his insubordinate soldier, < _seal the cell gate._ > A thin slab of metal ejected from the wall to which the gate was attached, sliding across to cover the front of the gate completely. Zod, Faora, and Dev could no longer see Jax, but could hear his protests as they started up again. < _Open the back air lock._ >

There was a deafening rushing sound signaling the opening of the back wall of the cell. All of them were equipped with this measure, thought this was the first time Zod had used it for this. He had Kelor seal the wall again. Now there was only silence.

< _May Rao help him find the light._ >

Zod strode off with those words and the other two in the corridor fell in step behind him. Once back on the bridge, the general had Faora set a course for their intended destination. Now with an operational phantom drive, their journey was nearly at an end.


	11. Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zod's journey to Earth is complete, and the end begins.

The LuthorCorp Fellowship was almost at an end and the fellows were working with the R&D Department to prepare for the coming expo. In the last five years, LuthorCorp and its subsidiaries had churned out so many initiatives that the annual expo had become a two day event. This year was no different. Lana was bummed that the fellowship seemed to be over so quickly and that she hadn’t been able to work on solo projects (though that made sense since she was just a fellow), but she was still proud of the work they’d done. A lot of the projects scheduled to be showcased during the expo were ones with which most to all the fellows helped directly. She would miss working and hanging out with the others very much if they ended up separating and following paths elsewhere. There was a good chance of that happening, too. LuthorCorp may or may not continue to have them as partners following the expo, and who was to say everyone would stay if they did?

The relationships between the seven fellows were pretty good, though there was a palpable split between the two sets of roommates (except for Gerry, who would be best friends with anyone who’d let him). Those that lived together worked best together, and working across apartment set-ups engendered a few snags here and there. Lana could tell that a couple of them were a little jealous of Lena, too. She wasn’t surprised. Lena, despite being the youngest, was by far the most versatile and creative of the bunch. If Lena had noticed any envy, she never let on. Always cordial and professional, she communicated well in the lab and chatted amiably in equal measure. Lana felt protective of Lena even though she knew the young woman didn’t need it. They’d gotten along well as both roommates and partners, and Lana’s instinct was to look out for her like she would a younger sister. She never had experience in that regard, being an only child, but she figured that’s what it would feel like.

The night before the expo saw a quiet girl’s night for Lana, Lena, and Takeia. Card games were played and stories were shared with liberal amounts of take-out and wine. Lena, despite being underage, was somehow quite the connoisseur and had suggested wines that she figured the other two would enjoy based on their favorite foods and drinks. Takeia didn’t question it, but instead went with the flow and volunteered to pick up the bottles since Lena obviously could not. Lana wasn’t a big wine drinker but did appreciate the one Lena had picked for her. She definitely drank way more than she should have and was thankful for the tolerance she’d built up.

Lena hadn’t seen much of her two roommates outside of work hours in the last couple of weeks, so it was nice to spend time together just before the expo. She’d spent a lot of her down time with Lionel on the xeno-mineral side project, which so far hadn’t been as fruitful as she had hoped. It was fascinating, but Lena couldn’t devote as much time as she wanted to until after the expo when the fellowship was officially over. She supposed that was a good thing. She didn’t want to be even more reclusive than she had a habit of being, especially when living with two people she’d come to regard as decently good acquaintances. Lena particularly enjoyed Lana’s company. It wasn’t that Lena disliked Takeia, but her tendency to talk at length left Lena exhausted most times. Lana provided a good balance between conversation and sitting in silence, which Lena appreciated.

Drinking with her roommates, Lena let her mind wander a bit. Lionel was flying back from Japan tonight and Lillian and Lex would be analyzing more data gathered about the Flying Man. Though Lena was the least involved with that particular side project, she did check in from time to time since Lionel’s invitation. It was more out of curiosity than anything (certainly not the borderline obsession that Lex seemed to be getting himself into), and there were tons of unanswered questions that Lena would like solved. She wanted to figure out how this man’s powers worked and catalog the differences in his biology compared to a normal human’s. The potential for medical advancements was staggering and Lena was itching to start the process. She regarded this as a longshot, however, since that would require his consent and it was unlikely he’d give it since he hardly interacted with anyone at length. She’d probably never meet him anyway.

The last time she’d heard anything about him was on the news two days before. He’d stopped a tornado in Quinton, Oklahoma. Of course, someone had taken a blurry, shaky video of the incident instead of getting to safety, but to Lena it was as informative as it was ridiculous. The video showed high winds and lots of dark gray, but in the distance around the funnel was a streak of red circling upward and against the winds. Lena had already inferred his minimum strength and speed implications from the plane incident’s aftermath, but it was another thing to actually see him in action. She wondered what material his costume was made out of, since it apparently held up easily against the winds and pressure of the storm.

Lena and her roommates never really talked about him together, which was fine with her. She didn’t exactly want to spend too much time on that subject because she knew it would drive her crazy and so she never brought it up. Now, sitting on the couch drinking wine and playing Go Fish, she was content to be talking about the textures of different foods.

“That’s why I hate spaghetti,” said Takeia. “There’s just something about the long, thin, cylindrical-ness that fucks with me. Can’t eat it. You have any eights, Lana?”

“Nope, go fish. But what about linguine? Fettucine? I’ve seen you eat those and you don’t seem to have a problem.”

Takeia nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true. Maybe it’s ‘cause those are flatter, I guess? I don’t even know.”

“Have any threes, Takeia?” cut in Lena. Takeia pouted and gave Lena her threes. “Thank you. And I kind of understand. I don’t like bananas because they’re too soft. They taste fine, but the mushiness is weird.”

Lana looked over at Lena and then at Takeia with a quirked eyebrow. “Y’all are weird. If it tastes good I’m eating it. I don’t care what if feels like in my mouth.”

“That’s the sluttiest thing I’ve ever heard anybody say about food,” laughed Takeia. Lana rolled her eyes.

A loud vibrating noise cut the conversation, and the three women checked to see what it was. Lana found that it was her phone signaling a call from Clark. She stared at the screen and then eyed her roommates before tapping the volume button on the side of her phone to stop the buzzing. Lana slid her phone into her pocket and picked up her hand of cards again with a small frown.

“Wrong number?” asked Takeia. Lana looked up and stayed silent a bit before answering.

“Uh, yeah,” Lana replied slowly. She wasn’t sure why she lied, but knew she didn’t have the energy to talk to Clark right now or explain that to her roommates. He knew she was with them for the night anyway, and if it was important he’d leave a message or call again, right?

Lena and Takeia exchanged a quick look while Lana avoided their gaze. Lena shrugged.

“Alright,” she said. “It’s your turn.”

Lana’s phone didn’t ring again, deepening the twinge of guilt.

 

Clark tossed his phone onto the command console in the Fortress with a sigh. He’d hoped Lana would pick up, but in reality he knew that she was having a girl’s night and felt guilty for intruding. But Clark had gotten more and more worried about Lana over the last few weeks. Their conversations weren’t as long or involved as they used to be, and he’d seen less of her than usual. For someone who could fly to anywhere in the world in minutes, it seemed ridiculous. Clark wasn’t sure what to think. Though she never cared about hiding her emotions, Lana wasn’t exactly forthcoming with explicit information. Even if Clark tried to get it out of her, it likely wouldn’t happen until things got much worse. That’s just how it was with her, since high school. He hoped it wasn’t anything too bad and that it wouldn’t get that far. Calling her now just to talk was a bit of a desperate move, but it was important to him.

Kelex was currently streaming news outlet broadcasts so he could watch them on the console’s holographic projector. Clark appreciated that the AI could pick up any radio signal in the world. It was a good way to keep up with current events that didn’t specifically have to do with immediate danger or his own exploits. However, Clark had been the subject of broadcast news more and more often. He supposed it was his own fault. After his conversation with Lana about amending the way he helped people he’d increased his time in public drastically. Now, he sifted through broadcasts and news stories with various angles on him. The first was a political analyst on a talk show.

_“This is uncharted territory. It’s unprecedented. What are we to do when a powerful figure shows up out of nowhere? No matter what he does, he will be met with conflicting opinions. His mere existence incites controversy, and the fact that he acts unilaterally all over the world only stirs the pot further.”_

The second was a correspondent speaking outside the White House.

_“–two months since the first sighting of him where he rescued the passengers of the L707. The president, in a press conference this afternoon, expressed that she would like a meeting with this man as soon as possible. She is the fourth leader of a sovereign nation to call upon him for a meeting so far...”_

Clark had expected mixed reactions and diplomatic action in response to his coming out, but in all honesty he had been putting off planning for it. He was so swept up in his desire to help people that he willfully ignored the political and social implications of his actions. Getting in front of the world and personally addressing himself and his relation to humanity was an imperative, but he had no idea how to go about it. He was afraid of inserting himself because of the possibility of being seen as a threat, but at the same time he was afraid that he was taking too long to get in front of the narratives that individuals and collectives were sure to put on him. It was something he’d need to do soon. Catching up on the news, Clark was now coming to grips with the fact that no matter what he does, he will be seen as a threat by many just for existing. He steeled himself, owning up to his fear and doubt, and made a personal promise to truly make his presence known.

He cut the streaming and had Kelex run security scans. His eyes were drawn to his phone, silent on the console. _After the expo,_ thought Clark. Lana was more important in the short term. The world could wait.

 

Lena was up and out so early the next morning that neither of her roommates were awake by the time she left. The sun was just coming up as she walked toward one of the labs in LuthorCorp Tower, breathing shallowly and squinting through the slight hangover. The sounds coming from inside had met her before she’d crossed the threshold and she recognized them immediately. Lionel and Lex’s voices filled the room with hushed, venomous tones. Lena stopped beside the door to listen. She knew better than to put herself in the sights of an angry Luthor.

“– weak and foolish,” came Lex’s voice. “Since when do you care about these people? You didn’t get to where you are by taking the moral high road so why start now?”

“This needs to be handled with caution, Lex! You can’t be involved with something that dangerous if it can get back to you. I raised you to use your brain, not act on every damn impulse you have.”

Lionel’s voice was thinner and calmer than Lex’s, but just barely. Lex dropped his voice but replaced the lost volume with more ice. “At least I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for something to happen at _his_ leisure. We’re taking action. The reward outweighs the risk.”

“You sound just like your mother,” Lionel spat in a tone of cold disappointment. “I’m sure this is her idea as much as it is yours.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” came Lex’s haughty voice. This was the tone of Lex’s that scared Lena the most. It was detached, with an air of superiority and a little too much grandeur.

“It means you’re being reckless and stupid. There are too many variables involved to know if you’ll get the outcome you want. And even if you did, who’s to say he won’t retaliate if he finds out? No human on the planet knows what he’s truly capable of and you want to poke a sleeping bear! Life is a game of chess, Lex. Every piece is important. Sacrifice the pawns for no reason, and you will surely lose. You never understood that. It’s why you’ve never beaten me. Or Lena for that matter.”

“Of course,” drawled Lex contemptuously. “Your precious _Lena_ can do no wrong. You’d love it if it were her in line to be at the helm, wouldn’t you?”

“Don’t be dramatic, Lex. She’s not anywhere near ready for that and even if she were she doesn’t want the Luthor name or the company.”

“If the roles were reversed would you have given me that choice?”

“The roles _aren’t_ reversed so that is inconsequential. The fact is you’ve shown me time and time again that you don’t have the right judgment to be in a position of that much power, so I will not be stepping down any time soon. Mark my words, boy. Your arrogance will land you in prison, or much worse, and I will not have that tied to LuthorCorp.”

Lena, though initially groggy from the morning, was now wide awake with confusion. Why were they arguing so early in the morning? Lena knew Lionel and Lex didn’t always see eye-to-eye, but there had to be something that set them off. It sounded like they were referencing the Flying Man, which would make sense considering their side project, but the obvious disagreement over a plan or idea confused Lena. The only details she could discern was that it probably involved more than just her family and it had the potential to be very dangerous. She definitely wouldn’t put it past Lillian to place people in danger or use them as bait to meet her own ends, but Lex wouldn’t do that. Maybe he was just relaying his mother’s idea. Lionel had to have been mad at Lillian and decided to take it out on Lex. It wouldn’t be the first time, and they’d argued over things much smaller than this seemed. Lex was probably just appeasing and defending his mother. He always did, even when she was in the wrong. Lena knew Lex would come around, though. He’d never intentionally hurt people when it came down to it.  Neither would Lionel, for that matter. He was no saint, but he definitely wasn’t as cold-hearted as his wife either. Lionel could be callous and it wasn’t beneath him to manipulate people and situations to his advantage, but he wasn’t cruel.

Over the past month Lena had watched as Lex became more and more engrossed with that man in red and blue, but it’s not like it would fundamentally change who he was. Lionel was being too hard on him. It was true that Lex was more reckless than Lena was – he always had been – but he was the obvious choice. Lex was much better equipped to run LuthorCorp better than she ever could and Lillian wouldn’t take Lionel’s place even if given the opportunity. But it was an odd thing to talk about regardless. It’s not like Lionel had any reason to relinquish his position. Lena knew that it was Lex’s dream for him to take his father’s place one day, but Lionel was a healthy 55 year-old man that was more than capable. It wouldn’t happen for a long time.

Lena pursed her lips and took a breath. It was a good thing Lillian wasn’t in the lab. Lena didn’t think she could handle that right now with how fast her mind was moving. Lena walked into the lab, clicking her heels on the floor to draw attention to herself. Her face was a passive mask betraying nothing, as Lillian had taught her so well. “It’s a bit too early for the volume, isn’t it? Everything’s good with the expo?”

Her fake sleepy smile seemed to be enough for Lionel. He was standing on one side of a table opposite Lex, smoothing out his grey suit. “Security’s already in and the crew went down to start setting up fifteen minutes ago. What are you doing here so early?”

Lionel’s innocent question had no belying edge, but given Lena’s eavesdropping it seemed untrustworthy now. She answered with a shrug. “I was excited. Wanted to see if there’s anything I can do to help things along.”

Lex was watching her but she didn’t meet his eyes. Instead she looked around the room, taking in as many details as possible. The lab was mostly bare, which meant that many of the finished products and prototypes had already been taken downstairs. Lena figured she’d probably be more in the way than not if she tried to help set up, but she was itching to be present somehow. Technological advancement excited her, and there would be lots of important people here today to witness what LuthorCorp had to offer – what she had been directly involved in. That idea alone was almost enough to distract her from the overheard argument.

“I think they have it covered,” said Lionel with a soft smile. “I actually have some news for you, now that you’re here.”

Lex walked out of the lab without a word to Lena, who watched him go and absentmindedly nodded in response to her father. “What’s up?”

“We’re wrapping up the mining project,” he responded, leaning more comfortably on the table now. “Most of the pieces were small, as you know, but last night they found a rather large fragment of rock and crystal. It’s 8.6 kilograms.”

Lena’s eyes went wide. “ _What?_ That’s huge! Can I see it?”

Lionel chuckled. “In time. None of the further testing will be here, of course. I’ve set up another lab across the bay and moved our hardware over, but we can only really dig in once the expo and subsequent proposals are through. The team has been assembled and briefed, so they’ll be doing preliminary assessments until we get there for the big stuff.”

“Awesome,” Lena beamed, eliciting a fond smile from Lionel. She was glad it was only him here. Lillian would have berated her on the use of such a so-called “childish” interjection.

“Awesome, indeed,” he said.

 

The expo started at noon with a short speech from Lionel Luthor. The hall was packed with business owners, investors, organization representatives, college students, and common folk, all engrossed in some invention or experiment displayed in cases or on tables. Clark had gotten there only half an hour before everything was set to begin, milling about with the other early ones. He didn’t want to be super early and stand around awkwardly before things got started. As a civilian, he couldn’t hang out with the moderators or anyone else involved with the expo in an official capacity so seeing Lana before that was an impossibility. Even after it started, he didn’t really see much of her at first. Admittedly, he hadn’t searched too thoroughly so he could give her space and check out the other stuff on his own. He was mostly there for support, but a lot of what was on display piqued his interest. All in all, Clark was glad he dropped by.

Lana manned tables and talked with interviewers for most of the expo. The LuthorCorp fellows had been introduced briefly by Lionel during the opening speech, so she and the others had received significantly more attention than the other participants. Lana didn’t mind. It felt good to be recognized. She’d been chatting with Gerry while wheeling him around when she was asked for a picture by a tall, lanky red-haired man who looked to be about her age, if not a little younger. He had freckles like she did, but she could tell that unlike her he was quite shy. His voice, surprisingly, was strong and clear.

“Hi, I’m Jimmy. Jimmy Olsen,” he said with a small wave of his hand and readjustment of his camera. “I’m with the Daily Planet. Mind if I take a picture of you two? My boss’ll kill me if I don’t get a photo of at least some of the fellows.”

“Of course!” answered Gerry, wriggling in his wheelchair with a broad smile. “Make sure you get my good side, though. _This_ one doesn’t have a bad side so whichever angle you get me should be fine for her.”

Lana chuckled, rolling her eyes. They flitted over the crowd behind the photographer and fell on the most familiar face in the crowd. Clark was at the back of a group of people listening to a woman talking beside a table full of different types of batteries. He’d recently developed a facial tick to adjust his glasses without using his hands, and seeing him do it now made Lana smile fondly.

Jimmy took a few pictures and asked for Lana’s and Gerry’s names before being interrupted by a woman with long, straight-ish black hair and killer heels. The Daily Planet press pass clipped to her short-sleeved blue button-up swung back and forth as she gestured with her hands and gave Jimmy a stern talking to.

“You’re supposed to be shadowing me, gingerbread. That means follow. How do you plan on following if you’re in front of me?”

Jimmy had the decency to look sheepish, but still met her eyes. “Sorry, Lois. But I had to get pictures of the fellows, right? Kinda just saw my chance and took it.”

Lois looked Lana and Gerry up and down briefly and then nodded, introducing herself and effectively letting Jimmy off the hook.

Clark kept an eye on Lana, and was surprised to see her talking to Lois Lane. Lois’s attendance wasn’t out of the ordinary but seeing them together was weird somehow. Clark had the urge to go over and say hello, but he realized how absurd that would be. Lois didn’t know Clark Kent. She only knew the other guy. Clark smirked to himself, taking his glasses off to clean them on his shirt. He wasn’t worried anyone would notice him. Sure, he’d been plastered all over the news lately, but his face hadn’t. Besides, his habit of hunching and shrinking himself in public should be more than enough.

He put his glasses back on and was immediately caught off guard by a deafening high-pitched ringing slamming into his ears. Clark bowed his head and gasped involuntarily, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand came up to cover his ears, but the sound disappeared just as quickly as it came. Heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing in his head, Clark blinked and looked around, searching for the source of the sound. The only thing he found was a cause of confusion. Nobody else inside the hall seemed to have been affected. It was like nobody else had heard the sound.

Before he could do anything else, Clark heard something more familiar. It was almost like he was picking up a broadcast or some kind of magnified sound from far away, but the voice he heard undoubtedly belonged to Kelex. “ _This is the security alarm, Kal. Sensors have picked up a large object descending into low earth orbit. A flash of interdimensional energy was detected as well._ ”

Clark was already moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward the back exit. It was too congested to move at the speed he wanted, but it gave him time to think. Whatever Kelex had picked up must have teleported there, because if it had come merely by propulsion then it would have been detected way before it got that close. That meant that whatever Clark was about to deal with was definitely alien or at least a result of alien technology more advanced than anything on Earth (besides the Fortress). He had no idea what to expect further than that. When he finally got outside he changed as quickly as he could and took off into the sky at breakneck speed.

Clark had taken the security protocols at a glance, which in hindsight was an obvious, stupid mistake. He knew Kelex would be able to contact him anywhere in the world, but he hadn’t gone over how or what it would be like. He didn’t even know if he could contact Kelex without any technological assistance. It would make sense that he could, given how advanced everything else from the Fortress was, but Clark mentally kicked himself nonetheless. Then he gave it a try.

“Kelex?” he called against the wind whistling in his ears.

“ _Yes, Kal._ ”

Relieved, Clark continued. “Update on the object?”

“ _It’s moving fast and will soon enter the upper atmosphere at its current course, but it’s slowing down.”_

Clark himself slowed considerably in confusion, now only going hypersonic. “Slowing down? That doesn’t make sense. Can you see what it is?”

A couple seconds passed before Kelex responded. That wasn’t like Kelex. The AI could easily perform billions of calculations a second, but for some reason it seemed like it was stopping to think. “ _It is a Kryptonian warship. Nearby satellite imaging shows it to be on course for the Atlantic Ocean about 1500 miles northwest of Metropolis_.”

Clark stopped fully this time, floating high above the cumulus clouds blanketing the sky. He must have heard Kelex wrong. It couldn’t be a _Kryptonian_ warship, right? Krypton was destroyed, gone, and nobody but him had survived. His studies told him that nobody on Krypton had been out in deep space on a warship for centuries, as all military forces were grounded and poised to protect Krypton against off-planet forces on their home turf. It had to be a mistake.

“Are you sure it’s Kryptonian, Kelex?” said Clark, his voice wavering a bit. He searched the skies, trying to find the large object. Unfortunately, he didn’t have Kelex’s ability to hijack satellite imaging. The keeper of the Fortress answered before he found it.

“ _Quite. The archives in the Fortress contain all Kryptonian military standards, including vehicle models and designs. This one is a grand warship of the most recent class._ ”

Clark’s eyes finally fell on the warship. It had fully stopped now, hovering only a couple thousand miles away at the upper edge of the troposphere. He was buzzing with energy. If it was a Kryptonian warship, there had to be Kryptonians on it, right? If that turned out to be true, then he was no longer the sole survivor of Krypton. Clark’s mind raced with the implications, hopes, and fears that came with that notion. He let out a shaky breath. “How is that possible?”

“ _The interdimensional energy is telling. Given Krypton’s limited means of travel, it could only be the result of a phantom drive._ ”

Clark began flying toward the ship again, gaining speed all the while. Two possibilities bounced their way through his mind: either somebody had made it off Krypton with an entire warship well before it had exploded, or non-Kryptonian alien(s) had made off with a Kryptonian warship. At this point, both seemed disbelievingly plausible. Clark hoped it was the former. The prospect of meeting another Kryptonian in the flesh was anxiety-inducing, but ever since he’d learned of his birth planet Clark had wished he wasn’t alone.

 

Zod stood at the bridge, looking out through the reinforced one-way crystal window at the front of the ship. Descending into this strange planet’s atmosphere was less taxing on the ship than he’d expected; the gravity wasn’t as strong here as it had been on Krypton. The sky was an interesting color. Zod had never seen one so bright with a color that wasn’t a bit harsh on the eyes. It was pleasant.

The general relished the quietude of the moment. He’d sent Faora to test the drones’ gene editing capabilities on Dev-Em to ensure their functionality. Originally he had considered killing Dev after using the phantom drive, but then decided that it was rather unnecessary. He’d proven useful in that regard, and Zod figured he could still be useful (even if not exactly trustworthy) in conquering this planet and building a new and improved Krypton. Making Dev genetically Kryptonian was a gamble of sorts, but not one of too high a risk. If he should get out of hand, Zod and Faora would make short work of him together, especially with the powers they would have.

Admittedly, Zod did not have comprehensive knowledge on that subject. As a result of partaking in Jor-El’s illicit studies of outside worlds and phenomena, Zod was aware of a Kryptonian’s potential physical changes when imbibed with the radiation from a yellow or potentially even blue star. Superior strength, speed, and senses were the gist of what Zod expected, but he had no real reference. What would his limits be? What exactly would he be able to do? Zod was itching to find out. But he would not make a move until everything was ready.

 

A flash of color forced its way into Zod’s line of sight. He focused again to see a man on the other side of the window, suspended in the air with no assistance. Zod walked around the edge of the bridge to come closer to the window, and was mildly surprised to see that the man’s gaze followed him the entire time he did so. He shouldn’t be able to see through the window. _Interesting,_ thought an intrigued Zod. He took a good look at the stranger.

His garb was colorful and definitely Kryptonian-esque. The design was odd, with elements both foreign and familiar, but what caught Zod’s attention was the large symbol emblazoned on the man’s chest. The general frowned, eliciting a look of wariness from the other man watching him through the crystal. He had not expected to meet any other Kryptonians on this planet, especially not one from the House of El.

Zod stared, his mind calculating. He’d had Kelor run scans for deep space long before killing Jax and found a few differences from before they’d been imprisoned. Some planets were desolate now, and some moons and other planets had been completely destroyed. His assumption in the Phantom Zone had been correct. There was now only empty space where Krypton had been. Zod had no time frame for when this had occurred (and had no idea _when_ he was now, in relation to time on Krypton), but his instincts told him it was odd for him to see another Kryptonian, especially one this old, now. The House of El had only five members, and the man floating outside had not been one of them. The seismic activity on Krypton had been getting worse and worse too quickly for it to have survived long enough to nurture a whole other life. This Kryptonian could not have grown up on Krypton.

 _Perhaps Jor finally had a son,_ thought Zod. _Or maybe Zor had another child._ Either way, they must have found a way to get off of Krypton without the Council’s knowledge before it was destroyed. Zod was ambivalent of this notion. His bitterness of Jor’s betrayal had not abated even slightly, but there was still a small part of the general that hoped Jor and his family were alive.

Zod pushed the thought out of his mind. There were other pressing matters as well. One obvious power of Kryptonians under a yellow star was self-sustained flight. That was unexpected, but welcome. The man on the other side of the window did not seem hostile, but merely curious, so Zod figured a diplomatic approach was a prudent first step. Specifically because he had not yet had a chance to drink in any solar radiation. Turning away from the man’s stare, Zod made his way off the bridge and down to the scout ship hangar. Something told him that in his absence the other man would not move.

< _Kelor, open the hangar doors at the front. Give Faora an update._ >

The doors opened and the floor ramp extended as Zod walked down to greet the stranger. He didn’t see him at first, but then the man floated down into his line of sight. He touched down at the edge of the ramp and it ascended back up to his original position. The two Kryptonians stood in silence at first, eying each other.

Zod forced his face to stay neutral. The difference in pressure from the inside of the ship to the outside was palpable, and the air was different. The whiff he’d gotten had burned his eyes and made him a bit light-headed. Shaking the feeling off, the general opened his mouth to speak. The other man beat him to it.

< _Hello,_ > he said awkwardly.

Zod raised an eyebrow, both in curiosity and exasperation. < _Who are you?_ >

< _My name is Kal-El, > _the caped man responded after taking a breath. _< Yours?_>

< _Are you Lara or Alura’s son?_ > Now that Kal was close, Zod got a much better look at him. He looked like both Jor and Zor.

< _Lara’s,_ > replied Kal. 

The general’s mouth twitched slightly. There was silence again.

< _How did you survive Krypton’s destruction?_ > asked Zod, keeping his tone and body language detached and professional. Kal was not doing the same. Zod figured it would be easy to get answers out of him. If he was not on his guard physically, he probably wasn’t on guard mentally either.

< _My parents sent me here when I was a baby, > _said Kal a bit shyly _. <I thought I was the only one left._>

< _Jor and the others are not with you?_ > blurted Zod incredulously before he could stop it. He could not fathom that both Jor and Lara would elect to send their only son away without accompanying him. Kal shook his head. Zod wasn’t sure what that gesture itself meant, but judging by the sad look on Kal’s face it seemed like a “no.”

Zod’s eyes stared, unfocused. He’d expected most of Krypton to have died with the planet, but somehow the resilience for which he’d known Jor-El hadn’t allowed him to think he died too. The general pursed his lips. He had sympathy for Kal, who looked lost and unsure of himself in this situation. Zod himself was more than curious about this young man’s life sans Kryptonian family than he’d expected to be, and figured a gentle approach would be beneficial to both in the long run. < _I am Dru-Zod. Welcome aboard, Kal-El._ >

Zod did not wait for Kal’s answer, but instead turned back to walk the way he’d come. If the other Kryptonian had any sense, he would follow.

 

Kal followed, shaking an odd feeling of tightness in his chest. Taking shallow breaths, he realized that the air was different inside the ship than it was outside. It wasn’t too drastic a change, but it would take some getting used to. Kal was glad that Zod had turned away so quickly, because he knew he would not have been able to look unreactive for long. He’d heard that name before, months ago in the Fortress, when Kelex had been giving an abridged history of Krypton and how it related to him. Having only been given a handful of proper names, Kal had remembered them all.

How had he gotten out of the Phantom Zone? And where did he get this huge ship? Kal ran through the tale of Zod’s imprisonment in his head as he walked. Zod had only been one of seven prisoners, so it made sense that the other six were out as well. He considered himself lucky, though. Coming up on the ship, he’d x-rayed it in its entirety to see what he was up against and had found only three people on board. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he had to come face to face with seven people deemed worthy enough for imprisonment in a separate dimension. Kal extended his hearing now. Most of the ship was silent save for two other heartbeats, slow and steady, coming from somewhere close.

< _What are you doing here? On Earth_? > asked Kal lightly, falling in step beside Zod but leaving a bit of space between them. He figured it wouldn’t do much good to let on he had an idea of who the general was, since it seemed Zod hadn’t had an idea that he existed until recently, at least not directly. The meekness he presented was as much a ruse as it was a true extension of his personality.

< _Seeking refuge,_ > the general responded, choosing his words carefully.

Kal heard the other two people on the ship much closer now and braced for the meeting. At the end of the long corridor he and Zod had just turned into, Kal saw them. One appeared to be female, the other male. Neither of them seemed to be all that surprised to find a stranger on board. The female’s eyes flickered to the symbol on his chest, and then over to meet Zod’s gaze. Her brow furrowed slightly. The man next to her stayed silent, looking a little worse for wear.

< _Meet our guest,_ > said Zod. < _Kal-El, son of Jor and Lara._ >

The others introduced themselves, and Kal suddenly felt more out of place than he had so far. Here he was, clad in a colorful suit on board an alien spaceship of mostly blacks and grays in the middle of an awkward meeting. Faora and Dev offered no conversation, and Zod decided to continue to lead.

< _Kal, Faora, walk with me_ ,> said Zod in a soft tone that did not hide the reality of the order. < _Prepare for deployment, Dev. >_

Kal and Faora followed Zod back to the bridge, and just off the entrance he stopped. Kal was familiar with this part of the ship at least, though not from this angle. He would have appreciated it more had he not been preoccupied with Zod’s instruction to Dev in Kryptonian. He wasn’t sure he’d gotten the right meaning. The phrasing was ambiguous and he’d had no context.

Zod faced him directly, and Faora came to rest at their sides between them to complete the triangle.

< _Are you a representative of this planet?_ > asked Zod. Kal took a beat, and expressed an affirmative answer. < _Is it…receptive to foreigners?_ >

Faora looked at Zod incredulously. Why was he taking the diplomatic approach? She had not had any experience, but Jor’s records held Earth’s inhabitants as primitive. It stood to reason that with this warship, she, Dev, and Zod would have no problem taking this planet on their own.

< _Sometimes_ ,> Kal answered truthfully. < _It depends on who you ask_. >

< _Your pronunciation needs work,_ > Faora cut in suddenly. Zod gave her side-eye. Kal held a sheepish look.

< _Sorry. This isn’t my first language. I learned it a short while ago._ >

Zod cocked his head. From that statement he could infer all he needed to know. < _It seems this planet has been home to you for some time. My hope is that it can be ours as well. We are all survivors, and I believe we should stick together._ >

Kal considered his words. Kelex’s description of the Phantom Zone prisoners were short and relatively unbiased, but it was hard to reconcile his original idea of them with the man with whom he was conversing. Faora, admittedly, had the cold, harsh look Kal had expected, but even then she did not seem particularly malicious. From the archives, Kal knew that the two of them had wanted to overthrow the High Council’s oppressive rule. Judging by what he knew of the High Council he would have welcomed an end to their reign as well (though would probably disagree on method), but everything else regarding Zod and Faora was murky at best. He could understand the desire to find a home, but even now he had no way of telling if they were friend or foe. Realistically, it must be more complicated than that, but either way there was a rather prominent red flag flashing behind his eyes. Kal steeled himself, opting for confidence and calculation in lieu of caution and passivity.

< _What are your plans for this world?_ > he asked, looking Zod directly in the eye. Faora angled herself against him just slightly, responding to his change in turn. It did not go unnoticed.

< _I have just told you, Kal._ >

Kal continued to stare calmly. Faora stayed silent. < _There is something you’re omitting. Why bring a warship if war is not your intention? You could have arrived in something less threatening._ >

Faora’s expression hardened. Zod’s did not change despite the tension. < _Options were limited._ >

< _You don’t seem lost. You came here willingly and intentionally, so I’m assuming you’re aware of the benefits of this planet to people like us. There is no need for the added protection, especially not from natives. From what would you need protection?_ >

Kal offered no hostility, but did not give any ground. Zod remained mostly unfazed, but his mouth set a bit. < _Our liberator._ >

< _General!_ > Faora hissed, whipping her head around to face her superior with a look of cold confusion.

< _Silence._ > Zod spoke to her but continued to look at Kal. Faora pursed her lips and held her tongue, looking away from both men.

< _So you didn’t escape the Phantom Zone on your own,_ > surmised Kal. Zod gave an impressed look.

< _I see you know more than I originally gave you credit for. Unfortunately, that is correct. A…mysterious yet powerful figure set us free and bade us conquer this planet, but instead I choose to gather my defenses and prepare to make a stand should he come find us again. He seems formidable, so I deemed it appropriate to make a stand under a yellow star._ >

Kal took a moment to swallow this information. Great, now he had to worry about a new player. < _If he sent you here, don’t you think he would have accounted for that?_ >

_< I assume as much, though I do not see how he could account for the rest of my plans.>_

_< What else are you planning?>_

Zod pretended to think for a moment. _< Now? To recruit you and the people of this planet. Surely you will all be willing to defend your home?>_

Kal’s expression darkened. Whatever course of action was taken here, one fact remained: no matter which side he was on, Zod was bringing a war to Earth. _< If you needed to be as powerful as we are here to face him, then the rest of Earth doesn’t stand a chance. You’re putting the planet’s entire population at risk.>_

 _< As they are now, it’s true. But with a little adjustment…> _Zod saw Kal’s eyes narrow, as was expected.

< _What are you saying?_ >

Faora folded her arms, her disgruntled expression deepening as she stayed quiet. Zod answered with conviction. < _If they were more like us, then they will also have the power to defend this planet._ >

Kal mulled over Zod’s words. If the Fortress’s archives were anything to go by, genetic engineering had been the backbone of Kryptonian society in many ways. He knew what Zod was implying, and it made him angry.

< _No. They would never agree to that, and I won’t let you force it on them. >_ Kal’s jaw clenched as he looked between the two other Kryptonians. Faora’s expression matched his own. _< I want to help you, but you’ll have to find a different approach._>

Zod placed a calming hand on Faora’s arm and returned Kal’s gaze. After a moment he made to respond, but was interrupted. Kelor’s disembodied voice came from what felt like everywhere.

< _General, there are seven small aircraft coming this way quickly from the right. The possibility of friendliness is doubtful._ >

Kal pursed his lips. The ship was high up enough that no one on the ground would be able to make out what it was even in broad daylight, but they were obviously on someone’s radar. For a warship, their cloaking capabilities didn’t seem to be working very well. Kal looked past Zod and through the right side of the ship. There were seven small single-passenger jets coming in fast a ways away. Remembering that they were probably in or somewhere close to American airspace, Kal cursed mentally.

< _I’ll take care of it,_ > said Kal with a sigh. < _Don’t retaliate, and don’t antagonize._ >

In a blur of color Kal was gone, elicitng an impressed look from Zod. That speed was really something. He turned to Faora, now that they were alone. He reached out to stroke her face gently, and then slipped his hand down to wrap around her throat and squeeze. She froze, eyes wide.

< _I do not enjoy when my subordinates question me in front of my adversaries. You would do well to remember that, my love._ >

The general stepped closer and brought his lips to hers softly, lessening his grip on her throat but leaving his fingers there.

< _Yes, General,_ > Faora responded breathily. She remained standing tall, but with closed body language.

< _On my signal, deploy the drones and take Dev out with you to get in the sunlight. Defend the devices against Kal-El if you need to. Kelor, scan for the most populous areas and get the weapons systems online._ > Kelor gave an affirmative acknowledgement. Faora stared at Zod, an expression worth a thousand emotions etched onto her face. < _We do not ask for mercy…_ >

Faora smiled deviously. < _Nor do we give it,_ > she finished.


	12. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anybody's been keeping up with this, sorry for the long wait. I just moved to a new place and got myself situated, and writing this took a lot longer than anticipated. Anyways, enjoy :)

Things went sideways much faster than Clark had expected. Admittedly, he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d signal to the pilots to hold off on any aggressive action, but it turned out they didn’t feel like giving him the chance. As soon as Clark made it out in front of them, they opened fire. The formation broke shortly after, splitting to fire on the Kryptonian warship from as many sides as possible. Clark did his best to try and get the pilots’ attentions, flying close to the cockpits and yelling and signaling for them to stop, but he was willfully ignored if not outright attacked. Maybe they thought he was working with the invaders. It didn’t help that Clark tried to block the gunfire from hitting the massive ship at first.

More than frustrated, Clark weaved only as quickly as he dared. If he flew too fast, the jets would be caught in gusts of displaced air and blown off haphazardly. He wasn’t in any real danger, but the pilots had the potential to be. Not just from him, but from Zod and the others as well. Clark had no idea how long they would wait to retaliate. He hadn’t exactly expected them to listen and was surprised they’d lasted this long. It seemed unnecessary to fight, to Clark at least, since the hull of the warship was holding up against gun and missile fire with barely a scratch on it. Clark was sure the other Kryptonians wouldn’t share that sentiment, though. And he was right. When the jets looped back around to attack from a closer position, they were met with quick and efficient return fire. Clark whirled and his eyes went wide with incredulity. The ship was firing beams of energy as well as shards of crystal, ruining the opposition.

There was too much going on at once. Clark opted to defend the humans, but he couldn’t shield them all without inadvertently making it worse. Unlike the jets, the warship was firing from all sides. The human pilots had a hard time maneuvering and keeping themselves from getting hit, and in less than a minute Clark watched as two jets were destroyed in rapid succession. He’d been busy defending three other pilots, but the explosions off to the left caught his attention and ignited a rage more acute than he’d felt in a long time. Why had a military response happened so quickly? They’d flown headlong into a situation they couldn’t handle, and Clark hadn’t done well enough either. He’d tried to be peacemaker and protector, but all he had to show for it now were dead men. Only then did he realize his mistake of being defensive. Clark barrel-rolled backwards and shot off in a tight arc around the warship, blasting his heat vision through every turret he found. He had a mind to just blast the entire thing as hard as he could, but ultimately decided against it. Having it fall out of the sky and into the ocean wasn’t a great idea.

Coming around the front again, Clark heard the resumption of gunfire on the warship in a futile attempt to damage it while the hangar doors from earlier opened again. Eight spherical devices rocketed out of the opening in all directions. Clark’s first decision was to race after them, but the appearance of Dev and Faora at the edge of the open ramp stopped him. The former Phantom Zone prisoners, now adorned with black scaly armor, dropped in unison out of the ship and into the direct sunlight below. Clark watched dumbfounded as they nose-dived, freefalling like missiles until they started to slow. It had only taken seconds, but now they were floating in midair just as he was.

_Damn._ Clark hadn’t expected that short a learning curve for the others. He was banking on the idea that in the very real possibility of an altercation he’d have the upper hand regarding control of his abilities at least, but it seemed like that advantage was dwindling as fast as they were flying toward him now.

Clark had no choice but to leave the human pilots on their own and fly off at hypersonic speed in an effort to catch the spheres and evade his pursuers. It was going to be an uphill battle, but he pushed the anxiety and anger as far down as he could and focused. He needed to find and destroy those devices before they could do what they were programmed to do.

“Kelex!” he yelled. No answer came. He kept flying, looking back to see if Faora or Dev had gained on him, but they hadn’t. In fact, he couldn’t see any sign of them in his immediate vicinity.

“Kelex!” Clark called again.

“ _Yes, Kal_ ,” came Kelex’s voice this time. Clark huffed in relief.

“Zod, Faora and Dev-Em escaped the Phantom Zone and are not friendly. Can you detect Kryptonian technology and differentiate it from others?”

“ _Of course. There are currently eight automated devices spread around the planet. Two are over the United States, the others are over the Atlantic Ocean heading east._ ”

“I need to stop them. Where’s the one closest to me?”

“ _Just coming over Boston._ ”

“Great,” muttered Clark. That was fast. He put on more speed, x-raying down through the clouds to get a read on where he was. “Send your vessels and help me take out as many of them as you can. They’re focused on me so you shouldn’t have a problem. Keep the line open.”

Skimming southward above the east coast, Clark scanned the metropolitan hubs on the water. Boston wasn’t so far off, so Clark started to make his descent and started looking for his quandary. As he caught a glimpse of the device in the distance, Kelex came back online.

“ _The warship is moving, Kal._ ”

Clark picked up speed. “You gotta be kidding….where is it going?”

“ _Too soon to tell, but it’s descending._ ”

“Okay, keep me posted. I’m –”

Clark was tackled out of the sky, blindsided by Dev. Focusing so much on the ground below, he hadn’t noticed any difference in the air with him. Dev had him around the waist, and before Clark could react he was met with a blow to the back of his head. Dazed and mildly surprised at feeling actual pain, Clark strained to focus his eyes. Dev released him and was now floating in front of him, but Clark was still being held in midair from behind. Faora had him in a vice grip, restricting the use of his arms. Clark’s vision finally became clear, and as worried as he was about his own safety at the moment he was distracted by the look on Dev’s face. His attack had been rather aggressive, to put it lightly, but his face was blank now, devoid of emotion. Clark had never known him, but somehow it felt wrong.

< _I saw you take out the guns of our ship with those beams from your eyes, Kal-El. An interesting ability,_ > whispered Faora bitingly. Clark was struggling against her and gaining some slack, but her grip was strong and she had more leverage. He couldn’t break free. < _I wonder if you can take being on the receiving end. Why don’t you try it, Dev?_ >

Dev’s expression flickered, but remained mostly the same. His head cocked and his eyebrows creased slightly as if in concentration, but the rest of his face didn’t change. Nothing happened.

< _What did you do to him?_ > asked Clark threw gritted teeth. Faora laughed softly behind him. It was a cold, eerie sound.

< _The manipulation of his genetic code also made him a little more…docile and compliant. I eliminated the possibility of betrayal._ >

Clark looked at Dev again. His faculties definitely weren’t all there. < _You’re sick._ >

< _I’m_ smart _. He thought he could fool us into making him as powerful as we are. He was wrong. Did you really think my general would plan to give anyone else this much power if we could not control them?_ >

At the mention of General Zod a flicker of panic went through Clark’s brain. Finally the plan made sense, but that wouldn’t matter if Clark couldn’t find a way to defend against the two-pronged attack. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do in Faora’s clutches. The silver lining in the moment was that it seemed Dev had not figured out how to use his heat vision. Clark knew from experience that control was a skill that had to be meticulously learned, and had hoped that it wouldn’t be as easy for them to manage as flying was. Admittedly, learning to fly was probably more a survival instinct given they’d jumped into open air, but this wasn’t. Clark wasn’t about to take any chances though, so he acted quickly.

He blasted his own heat vision at Dev’s left side, opting more for concussive force than high heat. Tucking his chin, he leaned away from Faora and shot forward, flying past Dev and continuing southward as he had been before being interrupted. Clark twisted into a high-speed barrel roll and pulled his arms in, which had the desired effect of flinging Faora off of him and into the open air in surprise. Clark put on another burst of speed and searched the skies for the device. He had no way of knowing when they would do what they were meant to, so time was of the essence.

“Give me an update on the locations, Kelex.” Luckily, the line was still open this time. He’d have to ask Kelex how that worked after all of this was over.

“ _I’ve destroyed two so far._ _The closest to you is now coming up on Gotham City. I cannot tell where they are headed, but their energy output is increasing._ ”

_I’m running out of time,_ thought Clark. He’d just flown past New York City and would be there soon, but he knew it wouldn’t be long until Faora found him again. Since he was still high up, Clark increased to re-entry speed. Luckily he met no resistance along the way, and was on the outskirts of Gotham in thirty seconds. _Small miracles,_ thought Clark. The automated sphere of metal and crystal was rocketing across the sky low over Gotham Heights in the northern part of the city, and he made a beeline to meet it.

Clark had never been to Gotham City before, at least not anything more than passing over it. He was both amazed and put off by the structure of the city, set like a spider web around a large park in the middle. The more urban parts were dominated primarily by Gothic architecture, the oddness of which eclipsed only by the fact that the city seemed to look dark and dim even in the daytime. That wasn’t normally the case with big cities on the coast. Star City, Los Angeles, Coast City and even National City were all more like Metropolis and New York City, bright and lit up by either natural or artificial means. Everything here seemed disconsolate and old, however, with sharp edges and towering shadows. Even the air seemed harsher somehow. He’d only been here for a few seconds, but Clark already decided he was not particularly fond of Gotham.

When he finally caught up to the sphere, his wariness increased exponentially. It wasn’t slowing down, so Gotham wasn’t its target, but it was suspiciously easy to stop from Clark’s point of view. He hoped it was just his superhuman strength that was able to keep it in place despite the propulsion system still obviously running. Not wanting to waste time, he did the first thing that came to mind and squeezed. Two things happened at once. The metal crumpled inward like paper, and Clark was electrocuted.

The next thing he knew, he was waking up on top of a car that was dented and crushed from the top. Vision fuzzy, Clark rolled off the roof of the car and onto the sidewalk. Standing up, he got his bearings. There seemed to have been a small explosion between his loss of consciousness and coming to. The device was in pieces scattered across the expanse of the street, the adjacent storefront’s windows were completely shattered, and two women were lying on opposite ends of the sidewalk. One was blonde and wearing a black leather jacket, looking no older than Clark himself. The other did, however, and was lying awkwardly next to a broken flower pot. The dirt and single plant present made a mess of her red hair. A few others on the block were quickly making themselves scarce, walking into stores on the street or just making their way to the next block.

“ _Kal._ ” Kelex’s transmission came back online. Clark forced himself to focus. “ _Four down so far. A word of caution: they’re quite durable, and sometimes they blow up when destroyed._ ”

“Thanks Kelex.”

Clark checked on both women to make sure they were alive. They were, though they did have minor injuries. He intended to have someone get help for them while he continued on his business, but this back street hadn’t had many people on it to begin with and was now deserted. Moreover, the sound of cracking concrete coming from behind him told Clark that whatever plan he had was now on hold.

He turned to find Faora and Dev striding purposefully toward him in the center of the street. The latter’s armor was dulled and dented from Clark’s blast of heat vision. Jaw clenched in frustration, Clark met them with no courtesy.

< _This is your last chance_ ,> called Clark, floating. < _I will help you defend against whoever’s bidding you’re doing, but you have to stop this. You will not take this planet._ >

< _We serve no one and nothing but Krypton!_ > Faora growled, her teeth bared. < _This planet and its people are ours, whether you stand with us or not._ >

Faora lunged and Dev followed her lead, closing the short distance in less than a second. Clark whirled to evade the Kryptonian woman and landed in Dev’s path before moving to defend himself. He caught Dev by the arm and flung him left in Faora’s direction. She jumped over him, leaving her subordinate to fly straight into the side of a red minivan, and flew directly at Clark. The move caught him off guard as he was leaning the other way, and he could only brace himself for the impact. Her gauntlet covered fist collided with his face, and he hit the ground hard. Clark groaned. He’d have to get past that armor or he wouldn’t stand much of a chance.

Faora gave his stomach a swift kick, sending him bouncing off the roof of a car and into the brick wall of the apartment building on the right side of the street. Before he could get his bearings he was hit again, this time by Dev with what looked to be a broken street sign. Clark felt himself being grabbed by the throat, and opened his eyes fully. His jaw and ribcage were throbbing, and he could feel blood dripping from his face. Faora had him raised off the ground with one hand, examining him with an air of cold, detached ferocity.

< _We could be gods, Kal-El. Make Krypton anew in all its splendor…yet you fret over these lesser beings,_ > Faora mused. Her other hand twitched, almost acting of its own accord, and floated upward to his face. She stroked his lip with an uncharacteristically gentle caress, gathering a bit of blood on her finger. < _This one drop is worth more than all of them combined._ >

< _We are not gods,_ > Clark managed to croak.

Faora pursed her lips and tossed Clark bodily to the side. < _You are a disgrace to your people._ >

Clark spat blood out of his mouth. < _These_ are _my people._ >

Faora whipped back toward him at his words, and with a cry of fury moved faster than Clark had a chance to react. She dove, scooping him by the cape, and flew him straight up. All he could do was try to float in an effort to alleviate the tension of being yanked backwards, but it wasn’t enough as Faora wound him in a circle and brought her arm down hard, flinging him into a warehouse a couple blocks away.

There were people inside, some dressed in lab coats, some in casual clothing, and some in business attire. Most were confused and frozen in place, staring at him. The majority of the space in the warehouse was empty, but there were a few tables with large cases, machines, and computers on them. Long, thick cables ran along the floor, most likely to be available for powering something big. Clark gritted his teeth and got to his feet. Getting battered repeatedly did a number on his patience, and he had a feeling things were about to get even messier. He wiped the blood off of his face and flicked his hand with a grimace.

Faora and Dev crashed through the roof and landed a few meters away.

“Get everyone out of here,” Clark ordered the nearest human. “Quickly.”

His words ended up being redundant, as most had started to flee once Clark’s adversaries made an appearance. Faora’s eyes began to glow red, and Clark cursed inwardly. She let her heat vision loose on the small crowd, but he was already moving. Speeding into its path, Clark propelled his own heat vision full blast to meet it. Faora hadn’t anticipated the force, and was easily overpowered. With a small grunt of pain she went down hard, face dark and steaming. Unfortunately, Dev had figured out how to utilize his own heat vision and followed her lead. He hit some of the equipment before Clark blindsided him, tackling him and slamming him into the ground hard enough to crack the concrete floor. Dev’s body went limp.

Wasting no time, Clark doubled back a few feet and took stock of Faora’s condition. She was just getting back up with an angry groan. Clark closed the distance with incredible speed, but Faora was ready. Whipping a forearm out to meet the other Kryptonian, she dropped him immediately. Before he could hit the ground, she caught him by the chin and wrenched him back upwards and twisted. His body followed. Her knee surged upwards, slamming into Clark’s torso and propelling him back across the open space and into one of the metal tables. A few of the cases atop the table fell and split open.

Clark rolled to get back up but immediately doubled over in pain – an intense pain he’d never felt before. It felt as if his head would split open from the inside with the rest of his body soon to follow. His stomach tightened and his muscles felt like lead. All the energy had been drained out of him, and it took formidable willpower just to keep himself on his hands and knees. He couldn’t even lift his head up. What the hell was going on? Never in his life had Clark felt so weak and in pain. He hadn’t thought he _could_ , and now was the worst time to be proven wrong. Clark heard Faora coming closer, and resigned himself to his fate.

Hearing a thud and a crash to his left, Clark collapsed, the weight of his own body too much for him. His right side hit the concrete and his eyes struggled to focus. He’d been sure that he was about to get pummeled some more, but the onslaught hadn’t come. Now, a few feet away, he saw Faora writhing on the floor with a mixed expression of agony and anger on her face. Clark’s confusion doubled. Whatever was affecting him had to be affecting her too, but he couldn’t tell the cause. His eyes darted around as blood and sweat dripped down the side of his face and onto the floor. Ragged breathing left his lungs and mouth raw, and he wished more than anything for the pain to stop. That was when he saw them.

Strewn across the floor a ways away were rocks, most the size of his fist. One of them stood out in particular, being almost ten times that size. All of them were glowing a deep, ethereal green. Clark’s mind reeled. It couldn’t just be rocks that had them so weak, could it? The thought of it was ludicrously bizarre. Yet it seemed the only explanation, as the glowing minerals were the only thing different about the environment from a moment ago.

Dev regained consciousness, got up, and started to make his way over to the two Kryptonians. Faora stopped him in his tracks.

< _No! Go protect the drones. I will not have my general’s plan fail._ >

The Kryptonian’s voice was low but strong and commanding as always. Dev immediately complied, flying up out of the warehouse the way he’d come. Clark saw Faora reach into her armor and pull out a small device. She clicked it, and then let her arm drop back toward the floor in exhaustion.

Clark’s jaw clenched. _I’m losing time,_ he thought. He needed to get away from those jagged rocks, and quickly. He was almost hyperventilating now, sweating and deprived of air like he’d just run a marathon as a human. It gave him an idea.

He lengthened his breaths and slowed them down so he could take in as much air as he could. When he felt his lungs were at their full capacity, Clark expelled the air with a forceful blow. It burned his lungs, but it did the job. Faora, along with the metal cases and glowing rocks, was blown back across the warehouse and Clark himself was forced backward a few feet. The effect was immediate. Clark could breathe again, and the outright pain receded into a dull ache. With a small shake of his head and a deep breath, he steadied himself and flew up through one of the holes in the warehouse ceiling without another look at the other Kryptonian.

*************

Lana’s day went south really fast. She hadn’t gotten to speak with her boyfriend in person at the expo even though he’d been present. They’d talked on the phone beforehand, but once Lana saw Clark make a beeline for the exit with a look of determination on his face she knew it hadn’t been enough. The feeling she got in the pit of her stomach worried her, serving as a most unwelcome distraction in the midst of the bustling crowd of buzzing expo attendees. It caused an eruption of doubt she’d been suppressing despite the situation being completely independent from her or their relationship. Lana had no idea why Clark was leaving, but realistically, she knew she hadn’t caused it. He wouldn’t leave her if something was wrong between them. That was something _she_ would do. Nevertheless, anxiety grabbed her heart and held it for ransom.

Lana knew she was projecting. Doubt was sunlight in a magnifying glass, focused and burning a hole into the faith in her relationship. She’d known it was just a matter of time before her elation at being with the boy she loved was eclipsed by her self-sabotaging and isolationist tendencies, so this wasn’t a surprise now. Lana did her best to think rationally, but the fact that Clark left the expo, which was really important to her, didn’t help. He hadn’t even texted to let her know what happened.

Now in one of the hall’s back rooms taking a break from manning the tables, Lana sat next to Lena in an uncomfortable metal chair. She could feel Lena watching her in her periphery, but couldn’t stop herself from staring unfocused at the floor or make herself address it. Her face felt neutral, but to Lena that wouldn’t be very convincing, or much of a deterrent for that matter.

“What’s going on?” Lena deadpanned. The small room seemed even smaller somehow, and Lana’s jaw clenched involuntarily. Lena’s face was expressionless, and somehow that made it more unsettling.

“Nothing,” she responded with an incredulous shrug.

Lena whipped out her phone and started sliding her thumb rapidly over the touchscreen. “Bullshit. You’ve been excited as hell for this thing. Anything less than an odd victory jig means something’s up. And you’re not very adept at hiding emotions anyway.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” Lana muttered to herself before finally turning to Lena. “Look, it’s nothing, really. It’s just me being emotional for no reason.”

Lena fought the urge to roll her eyes. She wasn’t normally one to talk about feelings; it’d been drilled into her head by a certain mother figure that emotions were a weakness, for women especially, and therefore should never be considered or dwelled upon. Luthors were meant to outsmart and outperform anyone and everyone; emotions provided no advantages. Lena shook her head, clearing it of her knee-jerk reaction. _No. Emotions are natural. It’s okay to feel,_ she told herself. Lana needed support, not contempt and belittlement. “Be emotional all you want,” said Lena. “I hardly think it’d be for no reason, at least not for you. What happened?”

It took a moment for Lana to answer. Since it was Lena, who was known in their group for simplicity and objectivity, she unloaded. “Clark’s not here.”

“What?” said Lena immediately, looking up from her phone. “He didn’t even come? That sounds unlike him. I don’t remember you describing him as a dick.”

Lana chuckled despite herself, but still gave Lena a serious look. “That’s because he’s not one. He’s practically perfect. He called and texted to congratulate me and all of it. And he _was_ here, but he left. I saw him leave while Gerry and I were talking to this reporter from the Daily Planet. I just don’t know why, and he didn’t say.”

“Did you ask him?” Lena asked, now back to scrolling. Lana shook her head.

“I think he didn’t want to bother me, since it was my day and all. And I know he wouldn’t just up and leave for no reason…” Lana heaved a sigh and ran a hand through her red hair. “Like I said, it’s just me being irrational.”

“Emotionality and irrationality are not interchangeable. It’s okay to be worried,” said Lena in acknowledgement. She figured there were much more deeply rooted aspects to this issue, but she didn’t want to overstep and so chose her words carefully. “It seems like something happened that was independent of you. Maybe something urgent. But you have a phone, so get in touch with him. Don’t make any judgements without having the facts. If you talk with him, maybe things will sort themselves out.”

Lana nodded absentmindedly, avoiding Lena’s gaze.

“Go ahead, do it now,” goaded Lena with an upward nod of her head in the other woman’s direction. “I’ll be here.”

Lana huffed an exhale and retrieved her phone. She was annoyed at herself for the nervousness. It had been a while since rationalizing things had stopped working for her. Lena only echoed what her logical brain was telling her but having it come from an outside source was a little better. Maybe if she just powered through it and ignored the doubt it would go away.

Lena’s gaze was centered on Lana, but her mind drifted elsewhere. She wondered what Lillian would say if she knew the extent of her social life. Not that she actually had much of one, but she at least tried to keep in touch with old school acquaintances and maintain good relationships with her fellow fellows. Admittedly, Lena felt odd in this current situation, not really having a template for comfort and sympathy, but she tried her best. That’s what normal people did, right?

Lena watched Lana put the phone to her ear and wait. The room was tensely silent for a moment until Lana huffed impatiently and redialed. Nothing happened this time either. Lena looked at the other girl sympathetically as she pursed her lips and clenched her jaw in frustration. “Fucking shit,” whispered Lana to no one in particular. Putting her phone back into her pocket, she stood up and made to walk out of the small room. Lena got up and followed, just in case. Back out in the hallway leading to the expo, she was hit with more noise than she’d anticipated. The normal din from the idle chatter of hundreds of people was to be expected, but this was significantly louder. Before she could catch up to Lana and get her to settle down, they were met by one of the other fellows. She came jogging down into the edge of the hallway after pushing her way through a small crowd, her long black ponytail swinging behind her.

“There you guys are,” Sitara declared in a huff. “We’ve all been looking for you.”

“Why?” said Lana a little too forcefully. Lena sighed at her friend’s irritability. “We haven’t been gone that long.”

Sitara looked back and forth between the two girls, raising an eyebrow at the redhead. “So I’m guessing you two don’t know what’s going on.”

Lena looked up and down the hallway for any clues. Most had retreated into the main hall, so she found none. “Did something happen inside?”

“No,” Sitara replied as she started to lead them back into the main hall, “but something happened _outside._ ”

Sitara continued to lead them inward, aggressively pushing her way through the crowds of people back toward the general area they’d been before. In the middle of the hall was a large cylindrical column with monitors mounted high around it. Sitara pointed up at them. They were all playing the same thing, and gave Lena a sense of déjà vu. On the screen was an oddly shaped aircraft suspended in midair with no visible means of propulsion. It was an aerial shot, shaky and just a bit out of focus, but it got the job done. The headline toward the bottom of the screen read: UNIDENTIFIED AIRCRAFT ABOVE GOTHAM BAY.

Lena looked at Lana, whose expression was not the one of shock that she’d expected. Instead there was a look of mild preoccupation on her face, and Lena could almost see the wheels turning a mile a minute behind Lana’s eyes. She looked back at the screens and raised her voice over the din of the crowd so Sitara could hear her.

“Is that what I think it is?”

Sitara nodded, passing Lena her phone. It was open on the young woman’s Twitter feed, refined with the search for the hashtag #gothamUFO. Lena scrolled quickly through the dozens of tweets that were already up, completely baffled. First the Flying Man and now this. Was this the year of impossible shit?

********************

Faora could feel herself slipping away, hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness in a relentless haze of pain. Lying on the concrete amidst the glowing rocks and scattered metal, she remembered back to her days training at the citadel in Kandor. The higher levels were grueling, to put it lightly, and some types of mental and physical conditioning were tantamount to torture. But this was something else entirely. All the pain that came from training was bearable in the way that she could feel it being done _to_ her. It came from the outside. Now, it felt as if her own body was betraying her, attaining new levels of agony from the inside out. Even when staring down a weapon, she felt confident in her ability to survive. All she felt now was fear.

A loud crash rocked her eardrums and momentarily shocked her back into awareness. With vision still blurred, Faora made the herculean effort to get back on her feet. Burning muscles and a wave of nausea said her body wouldn’t let her. She was weaker than she’d ever been in her life, and at most all she could do was crawl. Eventually, Faora found the focus to see what had made the sound, and was relieved to find her general regarding her with a calculating expression. He’d received her distress beacon.

Relief faded into panic as he floated closer with an obvious handle on some of his newfound abilities.

< _Wait! Don’t come closer!_ > Faora croaked. The sound tore through her throat like shattered glass and elicited a look of confusion from the other Kryptonian. < _The rocks…they somehow cause pain._ >

The blood and sweat that clung to her exposed skin served as ample evidence, but all Zod needed was to see the anguish in his lieutenant’s eyes. His darted across the warehouse quickly. Now he was presented with another problem. How could he get Faora away from the rocks without getting close to her? The Kryptonian general scowled and scanned his surroundings. The thick insulated cables were the only things close to him that were viable enough as options, so he went to work.

Giving Faora a wide berth, Zod floated over and dislodged one of the cables from where it was bolted into the floor. He looked into his lieutenant’s eyes with a rare softness; he detested seeing her in unnecessary pain. It took a few tries to whip the cable over to get it within her reach without hitting her, but Zod managed. Once Faora had a good enough grip on the cable, he pulled her to him and took her into his arms. She clung to him with newfound strength as he flew them out the way he came, into the sunlight and back towards the warship.


	13. Reward and Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark continues to fight, and the Luthors formulate a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a short chapter after a long hiatus for which I am terribly sorry. If you're still with me, feedback is much appreciated!

 

 

The sky was clear. Clark hadn’t come across a second wave of human armed forces, and the thought of it struck him as odd. It was American nature to meet a problem with brute force, but something wasn’t adding up. Mobilization of the military didn’t happen that fast, did it? And even then, would the government have reacted so early on? Clark really had no reference for any of it, but his gut cautioned suspicion and uneasiness was compounded by anxiety now that he was back in the sunlight. He definitely didn’t want to run into anything else that could weaken him, especially since he still had a job to do. Clark had no idea what to make of those rocks and had a feeling things were going to get a lot worse for him.

“Kelex,” he voiced against the wind as he flew, scanning the sky for any company. “Update.”

The answer was surprisingly immediate. “ _The last three devices have stopped. They seem to be operational and carrying out their objective.”_

Clark grunted in frustration. They were already too late, and he had no way of knowing how many innocent people were already affected. He flew faster. “Where are you?”

 _“I am on course to destroy the one settled over Mexico City. Another is over Tokyo and the last is close to Delhi. Only one of my vessels in undamaged enough to continue assisting you._ ”

Clark made a hard left and tore back westward through the sky at reentry speeds. These were three of the most populous areas in the world.

“You’ve been a life-saver, Kelex. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

 _“Probability calculations suggest that the situation would be much worse._ ”

Clark chuckled despite himself. “Yeah, probably.”

He continued flying, barely registering the vibrations coming from his pocket.

 

Lena leaned against the wall beside the entrance to LuthorCorp Tower, idly watching Lana pace back and forth along the sidewalk talking a mile a minute into her phone. In a fit of anxious energy the redhead had decided to call Clark’s mother. Lena felt it was bit excessive after having called Clark already, but of course hadn’t voiced her opinion. She was sure she didn’t have all the facts anyway.

Her eyes on Lana, Lena felt an odd buzz throughout her body, as if she were hopped up on caffeine. Sitara’s sudden news brought her more energy than she knew what to do with, and the scientist in her itched to do all it could to answer the questions multiplying in her head. In just a couple of months, everyone’s sense of normal was flipped upside down because of the Flying Man, and now there was a giant floating spaceship over Gotham Bay. Lena reasoned that most people in the area wouldn’t have believed in its alien nature had they not already been exposed to the anomaly that was the Flying Man. It was human nature to make an effort to rationalize things that didn’t immediately make sense. Granted, Twitter was known for conspiracy theory threads so the #gothamUFO hashtag would have been up regardless, but some local news outlets had already begun to take it seriously. And now Lena wondered if the Flying Man, catalyst as he was, happened to be connected to what was happening now. She’d bet money that he was.

“Hundred dollar bill for your thoughts,” came a voice to Lena’s left. She turned to see Lex sauntering over with his hands in his pockets, impeccably dressed as always. Now he was wearing a dark green tailored suit and a haughty expression not unlike the one he tended to have around Lionel. Lena always saw it as performative, but she had to admit he was very convincing. A wave of uneasiness washed over Lena, ebbing and flowing before settling in the pit of her stomach. It surprised her.

“You know, I hope it _is_ aliens,” he mused. “That would make things interesting.”

Lena continued to stare ahead. “This is not how I would’ve liked this day to go. I wish Mercy were here. Why did _she_ have to go to Japan?”

“Though I must say if things continue as they have been, we are unfortunately at a considerable disadvantage.”

“It was supposed to be about the fellows’ hard work.”

“I suppose with minds like ours we could rectify that problem…”

“It’d be nice if I could just have one day to celebrate an accomplishment without it being ruined somehow.”

Lex had been staring out into the street like his half-sister but now moved to face her directly, uncharacteristically abandoning his own subject and capitulating to hers. They had learned to voice their own independent musings at each other from when Lena was very young, an exercise in dominance orchestrated by Lillian. She reasoned someone of their stature should always be in control of the conversation, and so forced them to learn to barrel through others’ words. Lex found it helpful and informative; Lena thought it was rude, but played along anyway.

“It is dangerously unwise to dabble in self-pity, little sister.”

Lena glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, then looked back at Lana, who was now shoving her phone into the back left pocket of her pants. “I am merely voicing an obvious opinion. But even if I were to complain, some would say it’s helpful in its catharsis so long as it’s not dwelled upon.”

“Others would say it is a sign of weakness.”

“Well then I guess it’s good we were trained not to give a shit about what others say.” Lex smirked in response. She continued. “The dogs to our parents’ Pavlov, with both reward and punishment.”

“How dramatic an analogy,” drawled Lex. He sounded almost bored. With a swipe of his hand he unbuttoned the jacket of his suit, letting it flow open and move with the light breeze.

“But appropriate, isn’t it?” Lena asked in all seriousness, facing him now. “We were groomed, Lex, not raised.”

“People like us don’t grow up like the average. I wouldn’t say it was a bad thing. I’d dread being ordinary. Just the thought of it sickens me.”

Lena’s eyes probed her brother’s face. It was passive, as if they were talking about the weather, or Metropolis’s traffic problem, yet his tone was biting. Lena had always regarded him as more similar to herself than he was to his parents, but his answer suddenly made her question it. “Do you really think us above everyone else, Lex?”

Lex did not answer immediately, but instead retrieved his cell phone from his inside jacket pocket. He checked it idly and stashed it again. “Happenstance bestowed power and privilege unto us both. Of course we are.”

 

Without another word Lex went back inside, leaving Lena to stare after him. Making his way through the crowds in the lobby and expo hall, Lex trudged around the back entranceway to the private elevators with haste. A message from his mother had given him reprieve from his conversation with Lena, but also required his presence in a meeting with her. Even though Lex was secure in his position as her favorite he was not naïve enough to expect anything bordering on affection or sentiment. Everything Lillian did was business.

Upon entering the elevator Lex produced his LuthorCorp identification card and waved it over the sensor above the touchscreen number pad. His fingers danced over the screen, inputting 588467, and the giant metal box began to move upward. Lex stared at his reflection in the polished walls of the elevator, regarding himself with a conscious lack of emotion. He could see he was balding. Lex’s first instinct was to compare himself to his father’s full head of hair despite knowing this was a completely pointless thing to do. He’d learned that male pattern baldness was hereditary through the mother’s side, but comparing himself to Lionel was a years-long habit not likely to be broken any time soon. Vanity and pride ever so prevalent, Lex made the decision then and there to start shaving his head until all his hair was gone. He kept staring.

The elevator started to slow and finally came to a stop at the 33rd floor before starting to crawl upward again until the keypad monitor displayed 33L. Then the doors opened.

Lex saw his mother immediately, sitting at a computer hookup more advanced than anything available in the rest of the building. There were several large monitors displaying various video feeds along with a few tables that sported a Bankers Box of paperwork each. The space was deceptively small, for much of the back area of the floor was closed off from the space by the elevator for further construction should it be required. Lex ambled over to his mother, who did not acknowledge him. She was staring intently at one of the monitors displaying looping video feeds of the insides of small aircraft large enough only to be piloted by one person each.

“What was so urgent?” asked Lex as he came up to stand behind his mother. She did not answer at first, opting instead to continue focusing on the screen closest to her. He waited. The pilot on the screen was flying toward some massive object before being cut off from the left by a streak of blue that Lex recognized as the Flying Man. He flew along the aircraft and seemed to be trying to communicate with the pilot to no avail. Seconds later, the screen was engulfed in light and the feed cut out. Lex looked around at the other feeds and found that most displayed similar video.

“What is this?” Lex asked his mother. Finally, she turned to him.

“Reconnaissance.” Lillian’s voice dripped with bored interest but a smirk graced her face nonetheless. “During our last deal with the Air Force I commissioned the manufacture of several fighter aircraft in excess – enough for a small squadron. Off the books, of course.”

Lex wasn’t surprised. He watched the loop again before answering. “How did you manage it so quickly?”

“I pay people handsomely to position themselves where I’d have use for them, whether they know it or not.”

Lex fought the urge to roll his eyes. He knew that if he didn’t get a straight answer from his mother the first time, he wouldn’t get one at all. But he shrugged it off. At this juncture the details weren’t so important.

“What information does all this have to offer then?”

Lillian turned back to the screens. “Judging by how utterly futile mounting an attack against this… _thing_ in the sky was, it is considerably more durable than practically anything we’ve seen before.”

“And the do-gooder?” pressed Lex as he walked over to sit beside his mother.

“Just as durable, it seems, but I’m not surprised. It would be intuitive to assume that anyone who can easily carry an airplane would be able to withstand considerable amounts of force.”

“Of course.”

Lillian nodded to one of the screens. “What can you tell me about his presence at the scene, Lex?”

Lillian looked back to examine her son with an expectant expression, and Lex’s jaw clenched in impatience. This was something his mother loved to do – an exercise in deduction – but in the current situation it grated on his nerves. Preparation and practice were all well and good, but Lex was not fond of being made to feel like a child.

“I appreciate the exercise, Mother,” he responded coolly, “but is it prudent at such a time?”

Lillian merely raised an eyebrow as the elevator doors opened again. Six feet and two inches wrapped in a dark suit sauntered out wearing a determined expression.

“Good. You’re already here,” said Lionel. “Something’s happened.”

“I’m assuming you’re not referring to the large alien spaceship above Gotham Bay,” answered Lex.

“Quite correct. Looks like you won’t get the chance to provoke him like you wanted.” Lex’s eyes narrowed at his father’s response. The elder Luthor continued. “I’ve already sent you the feeds, Lillian. If you could bring them up on the screens?”

Lillian gave her husband an odd look before checking her tablet. Soon, all the monitors were displaying a different video. There was no sound, but the video was crystal clear. It showed a warehouse and people setting up lab equipment and generators. Next the feed cut to the Flying Man engaged in a physical battle with two other people, but it was hard to see. At first Lex thought the video itself had gone fuzzy with low resolution, but soon he realized that the blur of colors were due to the speed at which the subjects moved. This did not surprise him per se, as their research had documented the Flying Man’s speed, but the next part of the video immediately captured his full and undivided attention. Lex watched rapt as the two people on video hit the ground amidst the scattered rocks one after the other, and was stunned to see the expressions of pain that ensued. The woman’s reaction had intrigued him the most, as he had just seen the Flying Man take a short beating. She had no obvious reason to feel pain, yet here she was on the ground struggling to get back to her feet like her colorful opponent. Before Lex could ruminate further, the video skipped again to show a fourth player. It showed him seemingly saving the woman, who was now alone, and flying away. The video ended.

Lex eventually broke silence that ensued. “What fortune we have…”

“Fortune, Lex?” repeated Lillian, giving her son her full attention for the first time that afternoon. “I’m afraid I would not describe this situation similarly.”

Lex raised an eyebrow yet still remained facing the screens. He didn’t answer.

“There is obviously a lot to learn here,” said Lionel, “but we must tread carefully.”

Lillian pursed her lips impatiently, looking between the two men in her family. “There doesn’t seem to be much we can do at the present time given the circumstances.”

“We can hurt them,” offered Lex, head snapping left to give his mother an incredulous look. “Did you not watch the same video that I did? They didn’t even need to touch those rocks for them to feel pain. By pure happenstance we’ve discovered a way to weaken these godlike creatures without hurting ourselves, and you believe there is nothing we can do?”

The longer Lex spoke, the more animated he became. He looked over to his father, whose returning look was that of a patient teacher’s. Lex knew Lionel probably had his own take on the situation, but he was too revved up to concede.

“None else knows the details we know. Those… _invaders_ mean us no good will and it is unlikely that our resident hero will be able to put a stop to whatever is going on by himself. We can solve this before things really get out of hand. Defend ourselves as humans against whatever these things are.”

“No,” cut Lionel’s voice with a tone of finality. Confusion swept across his son’s face. He’d expected Lionel to interject, but not with that response.

“What?”

“No. We only just learned this and still don’t have all of the information. Given how powerful these beings are, facing them directly in any way is tantamount to suicide and even with these radioactive minerals we’d only have one chance to get it right. We must not show our hand just yet. Besides, we do not know for sure whether this mineral is harmful to humans or not. It is too early.”

Lex knew on some level that his father was right – that he was being uncharacteristically hasty and impulsive. Yet, he looked at the screens once more and thought of every headline and video he’d seen of the Flying Man until then. He could see the future: dependence on this being will become a crutch – a need akin to breathing. There were already mentions of him on the news every week, and soon people will look to him first before looking to their own. It was absurd to put their faith in the hands of a man nobody truly knew – a man who wasn’t human. If there was a threat against humanity, then humans should be the ones to rise to meet it. “Are you supposing we let _him_ save us?”

“ _He_ seems to be formidable enough to hold his own against multiple people on his own level, at least for a little while. But no. I agree that we need to take action, but not nearly as bluntly as you’re suggesting, Lex.”

Lillian gave her husband a pensive look, narrowing her eyes. Lex figured she had her own ideas, but Lionel, perfectly poised as always, looked as though he’d already put together an entire plan. Knowing him, he had. “What exactly _are_ you proposing, Lionel?”

“We cannot use the minerals. For now, let’s keep this a secret unless coming forward is absolutely necessary. It would be unwise to tip our hand and garner the animosity of the Flying Man –”

“We need a better name for him,” interjected Lex in a low voice.

“– for having and using something potentially harmful to him. What if we all survive this and then he turns on us because he feels threatened? That’s not something we need.”

“You want to make him – and everyone – feel like we’re on the same side,” hypothesized Lillian.

“Precisely. At this point, the others in the video are the threat. When things get worse, and they will, we should assist the common people in any way we can while _he_ handles the rest. That includes evacuations, shelters, money, and complying with the police and fire departments. So far his actions suggest helping people is a top priority for him. We must show that it’s the same for us.”

Lex raised an eyebrow at his parents. Lillian merely nodded.

“Yes,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s quite sensible. It would reap excellent publicity and solidify our reputation in terms of humanitarian efforts.”

Lionel pursed his lips but didn’t respond. Lex stared daggers, but conceded a nod to both.

“Why isn’t Lena here?” he asked instead of continuing to dispute.

The eldest Luthor heaved a sigh. “I didn’t want to make her day any more complicated than it’s already gotten. She can worry about this later.”

Lionel pulled a vibrating cell phone out of his breast pocket and held a hand up to his son, who had made to answer. He took the call while the others waited in a silent mix of restlessness and frustration. It was a short one.

“That was Miss Graves. She’s still in Tokyo.”

“I thought she’d be in the air by now,” said Lillian.

“The flight was delayed,” Lionel waved on, “but we have a bigger issue. Metropolis isn’t the only place with… _alien_ presence. It seems to be a global phenomenon.”

***********************************

A whirlwind of concern, disappointment, and frustration raged behind Zod’s expressionless face. Ever since their release from the Phantom Zone, things had been vastly different. For years he’d climbed Krypton’s military ranks, adopting an artificial detachment so that logic and prudence always came first. But it had merely been something he could access or toggle on and off. Now, it felt as if he had become that detachment. Faora’s loss did not escape him either – controlled ruthlessness now tempered with emotion. The Phantom Zone took something from them, hollowed them out somehow, and now the unfamiliar sensation of doubt crept into Dru-Zod’s mind at the prospect that he would not be able to realize his aims. Both Faora and Dev had failed to subdue Kal-El and he had no idea how many humans his devices would affect before the young Kryptonian managed to destroy them. Judging by the last half hour, he _would_ destroy them. It was frustrating to entertain the idea that even with their strength in numbers and superior technology, there was a chance that they could be thwarted by Jor-El’s son, who obviously saw himself as more human than Kryptonian. The irony was not lost on Zod.

The general made sure to put Faora through a full body scan in the infirmary, and was both relieved and perplexed at Kelor’s findings. Faora was fine mostly, albeit a bit drained, but still Zod grimaced at the discovery of this newfound mineral. They were to be gods on this planet, and yet something as insignificant as a rock rendered them weaklings.

Faora recounted how she’d ended up in that situation, much to her general’s disappointment. Kal had managed to escape, but she did not. Zod hoped that Dev and the gene editors would do their jobs before Kal got to them, but he was not confident. Angry with himself, Zod paced along the right wall of the infirmary. He’d underestimated Kal, and his ignorance of Kal’s existence dismantled his plan entirely. With an even darker look Zod wondered if the being that set them free had known of Kal’s life on Earth. Kal was the culmination of a series of unknown variables that landed Zod in the current situation, and now the general was out of patience. Earlier he had planned to broadcast a message, but now decided against it. Kal had had his chance, and mercy was not in the cards. He’d already gotten his last warning.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm open to any and all feedback (since i won't be able to tell if y'all like it or not otherwise)! Let me know what you guys think :)


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